Feral Child 1
by Prairie Flower617
Summary: AU Lost as a child and brought up by Royal Wolves, can Harry Potter possibly handle the transition from his comfortable forest life to that of TheBoyWhoLived? DISCONTINUED
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I'm only going to write this once. I don't own anything you recognize, if I did I wouldn't be working in some lame cashier job trying to get back into college.**

**Author's Note: I'm back! I'm rewriting this story, mostly because this one has gotten the most reviews, and is one I can see myself working on for a long time, given that I'm motivated. To ensure at least the first one gets completed, I did up a rough outline of the plot about a week or two ago, so I know what happens and when. So keep a lookout for new chapters, they'll be posted about once a week or so, depending on my work schedule. Hope you enjoy the new version of Feral Child, and please Review!**

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**Prologue**

"Move it boy!" The sharp retort followed by a rough shove from behind was all the motivation four-year-old Harry Potter needed to speed up. He tried moving his little legs faster in an attempt to appease his irate Uncle Vernon, who was cursing under his breath.

"Vernon, dear," his Aunt Petunia spoke up, speaking softly as to not further anger her husband. "I think we're lost."

"No, we're not," he grunted, "the trail is just through there." He pointed off in the distance, trying to peer through the trees.

But though he was reluctant to admit it, they were, indeed, lost. Vernon, his wife, four-year-old son Dudley and that _boy_ had been walking through a heavily forested trail near their hotel, attempting to locate a local swimming area when Dudley had complained about needing to use the bathroom. Of course, the needy toddler couldn't wait, and Petunia had taken them off the trail so Dudley could go in the woods. And now they couldn't find their way back.

Vernon heard a scuffling sound and saw that Harry had stumbled a little while trying to walk through the undergrowth. _'This is all that boy's fault,'_ he thought to himself. If that boy hadn't come, they wouldn't be lost. (Even though their predicament was really Dudley's fault, but he would never admit that.) But there had been problems throughout the whole trip.

Vernon had scored four tickets from work to a vacation spot in France, thanks to some overtime put in the year before. The original plan was to have his sister Marge accompany him and his family while the boy stayed with the crazy cat lady, Arabella Figg, down the street. But, naturally, Marge had suffered a nasty bite from one of her many dogs that made it very uncomfortable to walk, let alone go on vacation. Then Arabella Figg _had_ to be unavailable, some trip to see an obscure family member whose name Vernon forgot seconds after she told him.

And all of this on short notice. Vernon and Petunia had tried other methods, but in the end were forced to bring Harry along with them; not willing to leave the young child alone - not because it was the responsible thing to do, but out of fear that _someone_ may be watching.

"Mommy, I'm tired!" Dudley whined, trudging along next to his parents.

"I know honey," Petunia reassured him, "we're almost there. Daddy said the trail is just this way."

"Actually, I think it was back that way," Harry said from behind them, pointing. At four he hadn't yet learned to keep his comments to himself, something that angered them.

"No one asked _you_," Dudley shot back scathingly. Harry pouted but didn't respond; just continued following his relatives. He was just as unhappy about being lost as them, but they didn't need to take it out on him. But they always did; no matter what happened, if something went wrong, it was usually his fault. Even though half the stuff he was accused of was far from the abilities of a four-year-old.

But Harry Potter was no ordinary four-year-old. And while _we_ may know that, he was under the impression that he was pretty average; if not a little infuriating if his Uncle's behavior was anything to go by,

"Hurry it up, boy!" his Uncle growled, snatching Harry's arm and pulling him forward, "I'll not have you slowing us down!"

Harry cried out in pain as he felt something in his arm break under his Uncle's strong grasp. Vernon was about to reprimand the boy for crying when a loud sound caught everyone's attention.

A loud rustling and snapping sound, followed by growling was the only warning they had as a massive, white animal stepped out into view. In the brief moment of lucidity before raw terror set in, Vernon was able to recognize the beast as wolf-like in shape with glowing eyes almost as pale as its fur. Then he panicked.

The creature growled, displaying fangs long enough to splice them in two, and Vernon could have sworn he heard a deep, gravely voice saying,_**"Trespassers."**_

He was slightly broken out of his daze when the boy whose arm he clutched gave a small squeak when his hand tightened in fear. Vernon thought quickly. He shoved his wife and son backward and in the same motion swung the boy forward towards the snarling beast. Then he swept Dudley up into his arms, who began screaming, and he and his wife took off in the other direction.

Harry sat up from where he had fallen, cradling his injured arm, and watched his relatives flee in disbelief. '_They left me.'_


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Albus Percival Wulfric Brain Dumbledore was a man who enjoyed seeing years of hard work and patience paying off. As the Headmaster of Hogwarts for almost the past fifty years, he'd seen many of his long and thought-out plans work out. But never before has he so eagerly anticipated the next step of this new plan.

Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts.

Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, checking over the list of the upcoming first year students who'd received their acceptance letters. He had a stack of post to the side and was poring through them and checking off all the students who would be coming. Lately, the number of upcoming first years was dropping. There were less and less muggleborn students whose parents would let them attend each year and pureblood families were having less children; a majority of whom had little or no magical ability, and therefore did not merit invitations. As if that fact did not already have parents worried, an old, long-thought dead strain of magic was appearing in more and more children; a kind of wild magic. Wild magic hadn't been seen in many centuries and was the most unpredictable kind of magic there was. Wild magic didn't like being controlled by wands and had a tendency to act on its own, manifesting itself in ways that made the user become stronger faster; giving them talents that had other people afraid and envious. Those students with such magic were monitored closely so that such talents and traits could be controlled. Thankfully there didn't seem to be any upcoming first years with any signs of wild magic…but you couldn't be too careful.

As if that strain weren't enough, the Ministry of Magic was becoming increasingly bothersome lately. The school governor's were breathing down his neck constantly, demanding change, telling him his methods were too controversial. The MoM disliked the number of "wild" students, but had to tolerate their presence in the school because of the need to watch and isolate them. They disliked his presence in the school as well, but the only thing keeping them from actively kicking him out was the fact that he and the Minister had a long-standing relationship built from him giving Minister Fudge daily advice. The school governors' presence was being felt even more strongly lately, ever since he'd added two new Professors to his staff that had… less than satisfactory reputations in their minds. The first had been Sybill Trelawney, whose employment had not been planned, simply coincidental. She had applied for the job on a lucky day apparently, and proven herself a useful person to have around. Her bizarre behavior, as well as her obvious lack in Divining ability was what the main complaint, but Dumbledore couldn't really explain the _real_ reason for her employment, now could he? The other member of his staff about whom there had been complaints was the Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape, who was about to begin his 5th year teaching. His record was less than perfect, and he had a tendency to favor his own house and bully some of the others. Despite that fact, the governors couldn't deny the fact that he demanded high quality work in his classroom and a majority of the time got it.

All of this scrutiny had put a lot of stress on Dumbledore, and he sorely missed the days after the war with Grindelwald, when he'd been named a hero for vanquishing a Dark Lord. He also missed his reputation for being the only one Voldemort had ever feared, for being the "icon" for the Light. But ever since Voldemort had met his defeat ten years ago, things had changed, and people were terrified of those dark days returning. And he knew they would, which was why having Harry Potter at Hogwarts was _so_ important. Both figureheads of the Light, in one building; the hero from the previous war becoming the mentor for the hero of the next. It was going to be perfect, his most thought-out and highly anticipated plan to date.

To sum it all up, Dumbledore was eager to get this new year started, which was why he sped down the checklist of this year's potential students so quickly. Speaking of which, he had just completed going through the return letters; his hand automatically marking off names while his mind wandered. He pulled the list forward to look at the names.

**Potter, Harry ** _Attending ___ _Not Attending_ __

Nothing. There was nothing. No check in either column.

Before he could overreact, Dumbledore quickly flipped through the return letters, glancing at the first lines, which all contained the names of the students, but to no avail.

He sat back in his chair, staring blankly at his desk.

It wasn't there. His name wasn't there.

The next few days were some of the most stressful of his life. After that heart-stopping realization of Harry Potter's missing note, Dumbledore had been busily trying to find out why. Practically the first thing he did was to make a surprise visit to the Dursleys; perhaps Minerva's fears had been sound and the boy had not been aware of his invitation in the first place and the Dursley's needed some persuading. Upon arriving at #4 Privet Drive, he'd noticed that on the outside the building was almost exactly the same as it had been nearly 10 years ago, the only difference being the slightly larger, newer model car.

The "conversation" with the Dursley family was very brief and he learned all he needed to know very quickly. With almost no probing, the disgustingly happy family told him how on an unplanned trip to France, with Harry an unwilling guest, had resulted in the small child getting lost in one of the many tourist attractions. Of _course_, they had filed a missing person's report, but considering the area and Harry's age, there had never been any hope of finding him. A shame, the poor child. Dumbledore had probed their minds slightly, finding the story to be somewhat true, the boy had been lost in France, but they family had done nothing to look for him… and for some reason the event of Harry's disappearance was deeply hidden, as though the family was afraid to remember it. How very odd.

He left the home, on the verge of being _very_ angry, and also a little bit afraid. How on earth could he have not noticed the boy being missing for so very long? And then it hit him: Arabella Figg. He'd placed her here for a reason, hadn't he? Well it was time to pay her a little visit too.

Again the Headmaster found himself very disappointed and angry. Arabella Figg _wasn't there_. She just wasn't there. The house he'd placed her at was empty. He inwardly kicked himself for not placing some kind of tracking charm on her and for not having a concrete way of contacting her. Arabella Figg was the kind of witch to ward against owls and Floo, so contact was very hard to make.

It was while dwelling on his mistakes with Arabella when Dumbledore remembered that he hadn't forgotten to place tracking charms on Harry. _Of course._ He had immediately returned to Hogwarts and checked the various whirring and spinning objects in his office. Seemingly placed for decoration, these objects actually had a purpose. A small round table in one corner held all the objects in whom rested the spells he'd placed on Harry many, many years ago. The object monitoring Harry's life still spun continuously, indicating that wherever the boy was, he was still alive.

But it was another object that he focused his attention on. This object was spherical in shape, and clear, filled with a kind of mist that constantly swirled within its container. Someone would easily mistake it for a unique crystal ball, except it had no power for Divination. Subtle differences in the shape and material, along with a spell connecting it to an object or person allowed it's location to be determined. Fleetingly, he wondered why he had never checked up on it before…perhaps he'd just been too confident in his plans. He quickly triggered the spell, locking onto the location with his Legilimency, and surprisingly found himself blocked. There could only be one reason for such a block; wherever the boy was, it was filled with powerful magic, much like Hogwarts' own, that made it Unplottable and therefore impossible to pinpoint, even with a spell of his own invention.

Luckily there was another trigger spell to show him where Harry had been. A quick search and he was glad to find a location in Eastern France, in an area not heavily populated. He heaved a quick sigh of relief. For a moment there he thought he'd been screwed.


	3. Chapter 2

A/n: Hey, I finally updated ^_^. Just so everyone knows, I'm rewriting everything and my story has taken on another feel to it. I'm going into more detail and changing several things in the story, so pay attention, every little detail counts. And just so no one thinks I'm not going to post again for two months, I've finished the outline and written all the way to Chapter 9 (62 pages so far ^_^)

**Hope everyone enjoys the chapter, and I want to thank everyone who has read and reviewed so far, you're what keep me writing. Don't forget to let me know what you think!**

Chapter 2

A small deer picked its way through the undergrowth, her footing delicate and cautious. She nosed her way through some plants, looking for leaves that seemed to be edible. Some noise or scent must have caught her attention, for she raised her head quickly, her eyes and ears alert, some leaves in her mouth.

FWAPP! She didn't even have a chance. Something small and shining flew from the canopy and embedded itself in the doe's neck. She fell to the ground in a heap. Something let out a triumphant wolf-cry, but what climbed out of the trees was probably the strangest wolf in existence.

It was a boy, or about ten or so years of age. He had messy, roughly shoulder-length black hair; the jagged edges appeared to have been cut with a knife. His skin had an average, but naturally pale complexion, for although he'd spent his life outdoors, he'd done so under a canopy of trees that blocked most of the sunlight. His green eyes had a hard and intense look, indicating a harsh life in the wilderness; which his lean body also displayed. He wore a linen shirt, dirtied, with the sleeves, part of the collar, and bottom hacked off with his knife. His brown leather breeches had also been cut to just about his knees. He wore nothing on his feet, and about his slim waist was a leather belt with a sheath for his knife and a small pouch containing two stones he used to make fire.

The boy calmly walked over the fallen doe, bending over to extract the knife from its neck, slicing it again to ensure it had died. He wiped his knife on this trousers and was about to begin the process of cutting up the carcass when a loud rustling caught his attention.

The boy smiled, tilting his head in the direction of the noise.

"You hungry, Istemi?" he said.

"_**Not really, no," **_a deep, growling voice said, the speaker stepping into view. It was a massive, horse-sized wolf with a thick white coat and green eyes similar to the boy's. "_**But you must be, Harry, considering the size of that kill."**_ The wolf had his huge mouth open, tongue lolling; his version of a smile.

Harry stood, hands on his hips, looking down at the doe.

"It is a bit more than I usually take," he admitted, then looked over at the wolf. "Want to help me carry it home?"

"_**Sure,"**_ Istemi said, walking over to the fallen deer. "_**As long as you share some of it."**_ He snorted when Harry swatted his snout in reply, and picked up the doe in his jaws, his large size making it easy to carry.

Their walk home was spent in relative silence; Istemi unable to talk around the deer and Harry deep in thought. The wolf was right, the doe was more prey than he usually got. Generally, Harry would go after smaller animals, only needing to get enough to feed himself. But, lately, hunting had been harder. He would have to travel farther, or wait longer before finding something to kill. And Harry hated wasting, so he was happy to share this large kill with his family.

Yes, he said family. Istemi was one of two of his brothers, the other being a slightly larger white wolf with blue eyes by the name of Bumin. Bumin was a few years older than Istemi, and a tad more cynical and mistrusting. He was the fiercer of the two brothers. Istemi, on the other hand, was rather young by his kind's standards, though he as several decades older than Harry. It was Istemi that Harry was closest too; the younger brother had been Harry's primary teacher, showing him how to track and kill prey, to stay motionless for hours until something came by.

Harry knew this method of hunting seemed strange, as wolves were generally pack hunters. But his families' immense size and small number made that very hard and most of the time unnecessary. Though the scarcity of food was going to become a major issue soon. His brothers were large, and needed more food than he to eat, but his mother was even bigger.

Their mother, Asena, was at more than twice the size of Istemi and Bumin, her fur luminous and pale like the moon with silvery blue eyes. While Istemi had employed himself as Harry's teacher and Bumin as his protector, Asena was a unique mix of both. Since his human family had abandoned him (oh yes, he was well aware of what happened), Asena had taken pity on the small child, and decided to raise him with her sons, and she felt it was her job to teach Harry right and wrong and the ways of the world.

He and his mother would spend many starry nights outside their den having intellectual discussions on a variety of subjects, and Harry was proving to be wise beyond his years. At first, Asena had pointed out the differences between their two kinds, and Harry had personally felt her rage against mankind and their actions. Which was why had worked so hard to show her that his life with them made him different. Asena had also showed him how magical the Forest they lived in was. It was everywhere. His family was living proof of that.

According to his mother, their kind was called the _Regius Lupus_, which was Latin for 'Royal Wolves'. Not the most original name, but Asena admitted the name was given by an ancient race of humans who respected the Wild and the magical races more than their descendents. Harry also learned that some humans also possessed magic, but was taught that by no means did that make them superior to magicless humans; just as magical animals did not make themselves superior to their cousins.

It was several years ago when Harry discovered his own talent at magic. While he was unable to cast spells, having no medium to cast with, his magic had instead manifested itself by enhancing his senses to make Forest life easier. His senses of sight, smell, and hearing were more acute than a normal human's, and he gained an ability recently that had greatly impressed his family. He'd always been able to understand the Royal Wolves, for they could speak English, but lately, Harry found himself hearing other voices in the Forest. It seemed he could understand the languages of animals. Asena had lovingly named the ability 'Listening', believing his magic had enabled him to find communication easier in an environment not normally suited for his species. Harry loved the ability and loved that it impressed his family so, and would spend afternoons conversing with creatures whenever he could. Asena had mentioned that the trait was not unheard of, ancient magical communities had possessed the gift, but ignorance had labeled some languages taboo and now 'Listeners' or 'Speakers' were scarce.

It was due to this ability that Harry had been able to befriend the other wolf pack of the Forest. While his family was huge, white, and extremely magical, the other wolf pack was of a more normal variety; though the magic in the Forest had bestowed them with high intelligence. This wolf pack was relatively small, their numbers never reaching more than a dozen or so. He'd come across them in the Forest every now and then, and since wolf-language was now second nature to him, he found himself talking to them more and more. The Alpha Male and Female, though they changed every few years, became teachers to him as well. While Asena was like his mother, they were almost like his Aunt and Uncle; family, but not his immediate family. He loved spending time with them and seeing the ways of their pack. Spring the previous year, he'd been overjoyed to find himself invited to the night the new pups would be first brought out of the den and introduced to the pack. He'd fallen in love with the tiny, nearly blind balls of fur at first sight and found himself eager to help the pack in their rearing. Now, just over a year later, one of those pups had become his closest friend. Called Louve, she was an average yearling, possessing a lean body and lanky limbs that she would grow into properly in a few years or so. Her coat was mostly grey, with a few tawny patches along her back, muzzle, and tail, with some white on her feet and belly. One unusual thing about Louve though, is that her eye color never changed from the clear blue of puppy-hood into the various shades of brown common to her pack. While she and Harry were very close friends; he lovingly called her 'cousin' from time to time, she mostly stayed with her pack and only rarely did they find themselves alone together.

His mother had greatly approved of his friendship with what she called the "Lesser Wolves'; who regarded her and her kind in an almost god-like sense. Harry remembered asking her why her kind was so few and why both lived in this Forest at one time, and she had given him a simple answer. They were here to protect the Forest. Asena had noticed his confusion that night and elaborated. The Royal kind of creatures, those with the most magic and intelligence had once been in greater numbers, but the increasing human population had driven them away, and some had never returned. Those that were left found themselves the guardians of what magical home they had left. The Forest was one of those places, and while Asena and her sons actively protected it, they were not alone. The Lesser Wolf pack occasionally helped out when greater numbers were needed.

Harry had asked her what the Forest needed protecting from, and her answer was growled in such a way that he learned not to bring up the subject again unless necessary. Apparently there was a very old, human village just beyond the Forest borders, which had been there for a few centuries or so, though Asena had been there longer. The humans called the village "Ville par de lac", in their own language, which was simply another way of saying "The Village by the Lake." She said it was aptly named, for the small village rested on the banks of a very large lake at the base of some hills outside their home. The people there were very secluded by most standards, his mother said, and possessed more ignorance than most of their kind put together. Because of this ignorance, they feared the Forest, and the wild magic it harbored, and that fear both helped and hindered those who called the Forest home. The humans feared the Forest to the point they wanted it gone, but feared even more the wolves who roamed within, enough to keep from venturing too far inside.

According to Asena, this worked well for them most of the time. The humans did cut down some areas of the Forest, but they only did so in the parts nearest to their home, and they never cut enough to make her worry. They had long ago cleared enough land for their livestock and farms. The only thing that greatly concerned her though, was hunters. Some humans believed the wolves would attempt to kill off their livestock, and sought out to kill them, though none ever succeeded. Others were looking for adventure in the form of some great, magical beast to bring down. It was when these explorers and hunters ventured in too deep that Asena and sometimes the Lesser Wolves would strike and drive them away.

Harry had offered to help many times in the past, but Asena had never allowed it. It wasn't until his 10th birthday that he learned why.

After finding himself denied the opportunity to help once again, Harry had asked his mother why she didn't trust him. She'd pulled him close, saying that wasn't it at all; she was just worried for his safety. Further prodding on his part got her to explain the whole story to him. Apparently Harry was very well known in the magical world, a fact that had greatly surprised him. He learned that the humans who had left him here had not been his original family, simply a foster family because his birth parents had died. She continued to tell him of how they'd been murdered by a very powerful and very twisted Dark wizard called Voldemort, whose reign of terror in the magical world had been so great, most refused to speak his name. The thing that shocked Harry the most, however, was that this Dark Lord had tried to kill him and failed; leaving only a lightening-bolt shaped scar on Harry's forehead. Then the Dark Lord had disappeared, many believed he'd been destroyed when he failed to kill the Boy-Who-Lived, for that was the name most of the world knew Harry by.

That revelation had greatly disturbed Harry for some time, though it had put some things in perspective. He now understood why Asena was reluctant to let him help; she was afraid the humans would recognize him and try to take him away. The last thing he wanted was to leave his home and his family. Sometimes he found himself wondering about his past, about whom the family who'd left him was, and why he'd been left with a family that hated him so. If his mother was so correct, and he was as important to the magical world as she said he was, he wondered why no one had tried to find him before, and why he'd been put in such a home, and who had made that decision. He'd voiced his concerns to his mother, and she admitted she wasn't entirely sure, though the names Hogwarts and Dumbledore had cropped up once or twice, but she refused to explain further, saying it wasn't time yet.

Several months after learning of his status as The-Boy-Who-Lived, Harry found himself a little restless, and again he started asking his mother to help out. This time, she had allowed it, but only under the condition that he had one of his brothers with him at all times and he remained hidden.

It wasn't until spring of this year that he found himself needed; for humans rarely approached the Forest in the winter. Only a few times had any hunters gained the courage to try their luck in the woods' shadowed depths, only to find themselves surrounded by the vicious howling of wolves. Usually that was all it took to make the humans run away; but sometimes that hadn't done the trick, and so Harry had had to use other tactics to make them leave. Unfortunately, while using one such method, he'd been seen, and hunters had gotten a glimpse of him a few times after. Whether this was good or bad, Harry wasn't sure, for he'd heard from some of the animals that the humans now believed there to be a demon child living in the Forest, perhaps some lost soul the Wolves had captured and used as a weapon. These tales only made Harry laugh, but Asena had not found the situation amusing in the slightest; in fact they worried her greatly. Now that the village was aware of a human presence in the Forest, they may attempt to reclaim him, and somewhere someone was sure to connect the dots between Harry's disappearance in the Wizarding world, his family's trip to France, and the wild child said to live in the Forest.

Harry wasn't too concerned, though some part of him did fear being captured and taken away. He knew that to the village, his presence was only proof of some of their fears; that the Wild was a dangerous and unfriendly place, that it had turned him against his own kind, robbed him of his heart and soul. But they were wrong, Harry thought, looking over at Istemi and laying a hand on his brother's side. He hadn't been turned against his kind, for the villagers weren't his own kind. How could they be? He was a wolf.

**A/n2: In the original write of this story, the Wolves names were Naga (for the mother) and Atreyu and Artex (for the brothers). Since then I've given them more appropriate names. If anyone is interested or curious, I got the names from an old Turkish myth that is similar to the one of Romulus and Remus. In this one, a she-wolf goddess named Asena gave birth to two brothers, Istemi and another named Bumin something, who split ways and formed separate empires. I found it on Wikipedia if anyone wants the full story.**

**Keep a look out for the next update, it should be up within the next week or so.**

**Next Chapter: Dumbledore reveals his findings to a very surprised staff.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Yay Author's Note: Yay! Another update. I want to thank everyone who has reviewed so far, it's nice to know everyone hasn't given up on me. I especially want to extend my thanks to The White Wolf for her translation help; I was close on some of the French, it just needed a little editing.**

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**Chapter 3**

Dumbledore sighed and rubbed his temples. He was sitting behind his desk and had just called a last minute staff meeting for only three members of his staff; the fewer who knew what was going on, the better. He doubted he'd ever been more stressed before in his life and he'd be glad when it was over. It had taken him some time, but Dumbledore thought he'd figured out where the Boy-Who-Lived was, now all he had to do was go and get him, but to do that he was going to need help; hence the staff meeting.

As if on cue, the door to his office opened and the three staff members Dumbledore thought he could trust the most in this situation came in. Professors McGonagall and Snape came in first and sat down in the two chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk; Hagrid followed them, stooping to fit through the doorway and sat down on a three-seater couch in one corner. Snape could have sworn he heard the couch cry.

"So what is the purpose of this meeting?" McGonagall asked, "We don't usually have a staff meeting until a week before the term starts."

Dumbledore nodded. "I know," he said, "but I called you three in here for a special reason."

"Which is?" Snape said impatiently.

"As you all know," Dumbledore began, clasping his hands atop his desk, "the new first years arriving his year are a very special group."

"If they're anything like the last two groups, I highly doubt it," Snape muttered to himself, though everyone heard him.

"We've got some very big names coming," he added, glancing at the list, "Neville Longbottom…"

"Frank and Alice's son?" Professor McGonagall asked.

"Susan Bones… Draco Malfoy…"

"Hmmm," Hagrid grunted from the remains of the couch.

"…Hermione Granger, a muggleborn with outstanding marks in her muggle classes… Pansy Parkinson… Ronald Weasley…"

"_Another_ one?" Snape exclaimed, "Don't their parents know a Contraceptive Charm?" McGonagall shushed him and swatted his arm so that the Headmaster could continue.

The Headmaster paused for effect. "…and Harry Potter."

"What?!"

"That's_ this_ year?"

Once the exclamations of surprise had stopped, Albus continued. "Yes, he is scheduled to come _this_ year. As a matter of fact, his eleventh birthday was just last week."

"So what exactly is the point of this whole meeting?" Snape asked, drawling.

"Well," Dumbledore began, "you are all aware that the post containing first year invitations and supply lists are automatically addressed and sent to the address they are listed under. Now, there have been instances in the past where the address written is not the students'_ current_ address, but said problem is always easily fixed."

"But?" Snape said, catching on immediately.

"This is the first instance where the locating of the _correct_ address has been…less than successful."

"You lost him?!" Snape yelled in disbelief.

"I wouldn't say lost," Dumbledore said.

"But he no longer lives with his relatives," McGonagall concluded.

"No, he does not."

"So, where is he?" Hagrid asked gruffly.

"As to that, I am not completely certain, but-"

"So you did lose him," Snape said, smirking.

"_But_, I have a very good idea as to his whereabouts," Dumbledore finished, ignoring the interruption.

"And?" asked Hagrid.

Dumbledore sighed. This was the hard part. First, he repeated what the Dursley's told him, and what he believed was true and false about their story; noting Hagrid's furious expression, Snape's boredom, and McGonagall's brief expression of 'I-told-you-so.'

"So, how do you plan to fix this?" Snape said once the Headmaster had finished his story.

Dumbledore hesitated for a moment; it wouldn't be a good idea to tell his staff of the charms he'd placed on the boy, at least not now. He thought for a moment, and then answered.

"I've done some digging," he said, "and I know where the Dursley's were when they lost Harry; that location could be a clue."

"How?" Hagrid said, "It's been eigh' years."

"He's got a point, Albus," McGonagall added, "the odds are highly unlikely that he'd still be there after all this time…let alone that he'd even be _alive_."

"You know that isn't an option," Dumbledore said sternly, "and we have to at least _try_ and find him."

_That wouldn't be a problem if you'd kept a better eye on him in the first place,_ Snape thought.

"So where exactly was he lost?" he said aloud.

Dumbledore waved his wand and materialized an enlarged map of France on his desk and invited them to look at it. When they all could see it, he waved his wand again and a red dot appeared in a part of the country that was filled with forest and few urbanized areas.

"This is where he was before he disappeared," Dumbledore said. He moved his wand a little bit to the side and made another dot, this time in blue. "_This_ is the location of a small Wizarding village; perhaps we can find some clues there."

"Village sur de Lac," Snape said, surprising the others. He looked up. "Yes, I've heard of it. It's not exactly the most open village in the world; they're probably even more secluded than Hogsmeade. They home-school all their children, follow the oldest traditions, and have an extremely low tolerance for outsiders. They were neutral in the last war, they didn't participate at all, but that was just so they could avoid blame from either side." He sneered and sat back in his chair. "Honestly, they _redefine_ the term paranoid."

"They are heavily secluded, yes," Dumbledore said.

"Probably really inbred too…" Snape added quietly.

"_Which_ is probably why Harry's disappearance hasn't been noticed before. It could also be the very reason why he's still alive after all this time."

_You assume too much, Dumbledore_, Snape thought, _we don't even know if he is alive or not._

"How is tha'?" said Hagrid, oblivious this obvious fact.

"If_ we_ didn't know where he was, it's unlikely anyone left of Voldemort's Death Eaters know either."

"So…" McGonagall started hesitantly, "what do you think happened, and what exactly are you proposing?"

"To be honest," Dumbledore said, "I'm not sure, but this village could be our only chance to find him. I'm proposing that we go there and see what we can find."

"So we're going to France," Snape concluded, none to pleased with the idea.

* * *

"Remind me why we're here again," Snape said irritably.

"Just hush and follow Albus," McGonagall answered, swatting his arm.

He frowned at her, but continued walking anyways. Personally, he thought this trip was a waste of time. Mostly. He knew Dumbledore felt this was important, but why in Merlin's name did _he_ have to come? He doubted his potions skills would be of any use on this trip. Looking around, Snape felt his distaste for the location increasing with each step he took. Why couldn't Potter have gotten lost somewhere more habitable?

The four of them (five, if you counted Hagrid's dog, Fang) had entered the sheltered streets of Village sur de Lac late the following afternoon after that shocking (and in Snape's opinion, unpleasant) meeting in the Headmaster's office. Now, he had known the town was secluded, but the level of seclusion surprised him. These people were_ paranoid_. It had taken two Portkeys and several Apparitions to get here. The little town was in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a good sized river on one side, open fields on another, and a sea of forest stretching behind as far as the eye could see.

The town itself was roughly circular in shape and surrounded by a 50 ft wooden wall, obviously enforced with spells. There was only one entrance; a heavily guarded gate facing a bridge that crossed the river. Snape had seen several small openings around the middle of the wall; he supposed watchmen kept lookout from there. It was almost as though they were afraid of someone attacking…or some_thing_.

The outside screamed paranoia, but the inside… the inside was much worse. It was quite clear, from what Snape could see, that there was no equality between the social classes. The homes and streets closest to the wall were obviously home to the lower class villagers; the buildings were small and shabby. Many were in various states of disrepair. The streets were dirty, unpaved or uneven, with potholes filled with muddy water. The further in the four from Hogwarts went, the cleaner the streets became, and the taller the buildings grew. But size and cleanliness seemed to be the only noticeable difference between the classes, for the people all looked the same.

All the people were clothed in dark colored clothing, the lower classes dressed in shabbier versions. And Snape doubted that anyone here had ever heard of the word 'hygiene'. Everyone had dark hair that made his seem perfect. People of the older generations had dirty and yellowing teeth, and the younger group's wasn't much better off. But the un-cleanliness aside, the most off-putting thing about the town was everyone's distrust and skepticism. As Snape followed the other three further and further into the village, he saw the passersby giving them dark looks and frowns, muttering things under their breath, and his French was good enough to catch "intruders" and "trespassers" and a few more choice words he chose to ignore.

"Albus," McGonagall spoke up, laying a hand on the Headmaster's shoulder and breaking Snape from his musing, "Just what exactly are we supposed to look for?"

"I'm working on it," he answered distractedly, before attempting to engage a villager in conversation.

McGonagall just huffed in frustration before turning to Snape, who shook his head. He was just as lost as her. He listened in on Dumbledore's discussion with the villager, catching the words for 'hotel' and 'inn'. _Oh Merlin, they were staying here for the night?_ To his disappointment, the villager was actually helpful and pointed them in the direction of a fairly cheap inn, whose owner would give them rooms despite being outsiders.

_Just Stun me now,_ he thought sourly.

* * *

Apparently, Dumbledore never asked for someplace nearby, Snape thought as they reached the street with the hotel. It was on the other side of town, on the side that faced the dark and looming forest. It had taken the rest of the afternoon to reach it, for night had all but fallen and the streets were mostly deserted. And those still outside seemed more paranoid than usual.

_What did they think was going to happen?_

"Ah," Dumbledore said, clasping his hands together, pleased. "Here it is."

Snape looked the inn up and down, noting the peeling walls, sagging roof and dirty windows. He sneered, thinking the others would have to force him inside, cause there was no way he was sleeping there. Apparently he wasn't the only one who didn't like the look of the place, for McGonagall hesitated, frowning. Hagrid didn't seem to care, which was of no surprise to the Potions Master.

"So," Dumbledore said, turning around and clapping his hands together, "we can stay here for the night and see if we can learn something."

"We don't even know what to look for!" Snape snapped, his patience breaking, "just how is this going to help?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Surely you're aware of what great sources of information inns are…especially their bars."

_Ah, so we're going to get our information from drunkards,_ Snape realized. _Lovely._

They went inside and waited while Dumbledore got them a room. Honestly, Snape was surprised they even got one, considering the dark looks the other guests were giving them. He glared back at some of the closer ones, smirking when they looked away hastily. He wasn't the most feared teacher at Hogwarts for nothing.

"We've got a room," Dumbledore said triumphantly when he returned, "although, Hagrid, they won't allow Fang in here, but they have a place for him in their stables." Hagrid seemed reluctant to be separated from his dog, but agreed since there was no other option. He went out to put Fang away. "Now then," Dumbledore said after Hagrid had left, "how about we make ourselves comfortable and enjoy a nice mug of the local brew."

They sat down at a table in the back of the room, but by no means did they enjoy themselves. The brew offered wasn't all that satisfying and the locals seemed to have found their spines again and Snape's dirty looks appeared to have lost their power. Although, he figured, it was probably good timing that Hagrid was outside with his dog right now, the half-giant's drinking habits certainly wouldn't help with their image at the moment.

They hadn't been sitting for very long, each lost in their own thoughts, when they suddenly heard a far-off noise. Everyone in the room froze and fell silent and it took Snape a moment to realize what the sound was; wolf cries. He rolled his eyes at the behavior of the locals, they were next to a forest; of course there'd be wolves. Honestly, he had had enough of this paranoia.

After a few minutes, the villagers relaxed slightly and started talking again, but in much quieter voices than before. McGonagall looked around in confusion; she was the only one in their group who did not understand French. She sent Dumbledore an impatient look, and he smiled and waved his wand, performing a complicated translation spell on her so she could follow.

One man near the bar glanced outside towards the chorus of wolf cries and scowled. "I hate wolves," he growled, slamming his mug down onto the counter. There was a smattering of agreement from the crowd. Encouraged, the man continued. "They're just a bunch of blood-thirsty beasts that kill everything that moves."

"My brother's lost half his flock this year to those monsters!" One man interjected.

"My hunting mate and I were ambushed by a group of them two months ago. We had no choice but to flee," another added.

"Was the _Enfant Sauvage _with them?" someone asked from the back.

The three from Hogwarts looked over with interest. _Enfant Sauvage_ translated to "feral child"…but that didn't mean anything, right?

"No," was the answer, "we got lucky."

"Are the rumors about that demon child true?" someone asked.

Several people began to talk, all confirming said rumors and everyone tried to tell their own story at the same time. Someone hushed everyone up and it quieted down again.

Dumbledore hesitated, and then spoke up. "And what rumors would those be?" he asked, "If someone would be so kind as to inform a stranger to these parts."

The villagers looked at them for a moment, as though his question had been insulting. It was silent for a bit before someone decided that, outsiders or not, they had a story to tell.

"No one knows when the _Enfant Sauvage_ came to live in our Forest, but we became aware of his presence sometime last Spring," they began, "A friend of mine had ventured out into the woods just a week after the last of the snow disappeared. He was an adventure seeker; he'd waited all winter to go hunting and looked forward to the game returning. So he and a friend went out early one morning with their hunting dogs. They didn't come back until late that afternoon…but all their dogs were gone.

"My friend told me that they had gone pretty far into the woods with no game to speak of. They were prepared to turn around and come home when suddenly their dogs started panicking and barking at nothing. They didn't have time to figure out what was going on because out of nowhere they began to hear the howling and snarling and growling of wolves in every direction. Their dogs went mad trying to get at them, and according to my friend a few broke loose and ran off; probably eaten by the beasts.

"So anyway, they kept the rest of their dogs from fleeing and started shooting spells into the trees, trying to scare the wolves away. Someone must have aimed pretty well, because they hit something that let out a yelp and fell out of the branches into their midst. But it wasn't a wolf. It was a small boy, covered in filth and blood with gleaming eyes and wild hair. This child snarled at them like any other wolf before darting back into the trees."

"The demon didn't kill them?" someone asked.

"No," he answered, "for some reason he didn't. But their dogs didn't get away, probably driven mad by his wild scent." He took a drink from his mug. "They say he's some lost soul that got lost in the Forest's depths and is now being kept prisoner by the Wolves who live there. Now he's without any will of his own; merely the shadow of a human being."

His tale ended on a sober note. Someone from the back grunted. "Whatever that _thing_ is, it's just another reason that Forest is evil. I still say we chop the whole thing down."

"You know the wolves and their demon would never allow that," someone said.

This just started another whole series of arguments that no tried to interrupt.

Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape just sat there in silence, staring at each other in disbelief.

"Albus," McGonagall said hesitantly, "there's no way…"

He gave her a solemn look. "I think we've found our clue," he said.

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**A/n: Hope you enjoyed the chapter, don't forget to review!**

_Next chapter: Harry sees the Hogwarts Professors for the first time._


	5. Chapter 4

**A/n: Sorry about the late update, been working long hours lately, and last weekend my girlfriend came over for two days (yay A/n: Sorry about the late update, been working long hours lately, and last weekend my girlfriend came over for two days (yay!) so absolutely _no_ writing was done then, lol. I want to thank all my readers, and I'd like to correct an error from chapter three's note: I thanked The White Wolf for some translation help, calling them 'her', when in fact The White Wolf is a 'he.' Needless to say I felt rather silly, and I'd like to apologize to him for my silly mistake :)**

**Hope everyone enjoys the chapter, this is where you can really see the difference between the old version and the new one; things get very different here.**

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**Chapter 4**

Harry was lounging in the boughs of one of his favorite trees, slightly lethargic after he'd eaten his first kill of the day. It was roughly noon-time, and the sun was high in the sky, raising the temperature of the Forest enough to the point where Harry hadn't even cleaned himself off yet. Wolves were fastidious by nature and were not ones to go around covered in filth and gore, but it was just so darn _hot_, Harry couldn't get up the energy to travel the two-and-a-half miles to the river to wash up.

He was just drifting off to sleep when he heard footsteps on the ground below him. He was planning to ignore it; anything in the Forest that could have been threatening to him wouldn't be able to get at him in the tree anyway, but that decision was taken away from him when a low voice called to him.

"_Hey, Harry!"_ He opened a sleepy eye and rolled slightly so that he could see the leaf-littered, shadowed ground below him. It was Louve, his closest friend. She was a young she-wolf, only a yearling, with blue eyes and a tawny coat. She was standing at the base of his tree, her tongue lolling in the early-afternoon heat; wagging her tail.

He sent her a sleepy smile. _"Hey, Louve,_ he said, _"what brings you here?"_

She flicked her ears, a wolf version of a shrug. _"I was bored."_

Harry grinned and chuckled. _"Oh that makes me feel treasured," _he said, _"you come to me out of boredom."_

Louve thumped her tail against the tree. _"That's not the only reason,"_ she said indignantly, _"besides, I heard something interesting."_

Harry gave up sleep and sat up, swinging so that his legs hung down from the tree. _"What?"_

She closed her mouth and raised her hackles slightly. _"There are intruders in the Forest."_

"_Really…"_

"_Want to check it out?"_

Harry jumped down from the tree and landed next to her. _"Should I wash first?"_ he asked with a smirk.

Louve looked him up and down, noting the mess from his previous meal. She flattened her ears and showed her fangs. _"No."_

Louve had heard of the intruder's presence from a blue jay that had _really_ not liked his tree disturbed by their passing and was now letting the whole Forest know about it. Harry followed her through the woods, only stopping once to make sure the remains of his meal were adequately hidden from other predators. He hesitated, and asked his companion if they should get one of his brothers and she said no.

"_They could be gone by then. Hurry!" _she urged him.

"_Why are you in such a hurry anyway, it's not like humans haven't been in here before."_

"_These aren't like the ones who usually come in here,"_ she said. She refused to elaborate further; clearly it was something he had to see for himself.

Harry heard the intruders long before he saw them and he scowled. These people had no sense at all, was no one afraid of predators anymore? Louve seemed to sense his distaste and sent him an excited look over her shoulder. Harry rolled his eyes at her; she was such a puppy sometimes. When they began to get closer, the wind shifted towards them, and they both got the scent of dog. This should be interesting.

Harry got Louve's attention and motioned upwards and she understood. Harry jumped up and grabbed a low branch and swung himself up into a tree. He quickly and silently made his way through the branches until he could get a look at the people who'd so disrupted this part of the Forest.

Wow, Louve was right; these weren't like the intruders who'd come here before.

There were four of them…five if you counted the dog. Said dog was fairly large and had extremely short black fur and a drooping face. The person, if you could call it that, who held the dog's leash, was gigantic and very hairy. Harry doubted he was even fully human. The other three were definitely human, but were clearly not hunters. One of them was without a doubt the oldest person Harry had ever seen, with a long white beard and hair and a very strangely colored outfit. The woman with him was old as well, but not that old. Her dark hair was graying and pulled back. The other man was the youngest, with long dark hair and a pointed nose and had a mean look about him. They were all in strange clothes that clearly limited their movement and had their wands out and were talking amongst themselves.

"_You weren't kidding,"_ Harry said quietly, _"they are strange."_

"_They don't look like hunters," _she observed, _"I wonder why they're here?"_

"_Does it matter? They shouldn't be here at all." _Harry and Louve watched and followed as the humans (and giant and dog) lumbered through the Forest; apparently searching for something. Harry sneered as he watched them; humans were such clumsy creatures sometimes, the whole Forest could probably hear them. If they were looking for something they'd end up scaring it away. Fools.

The people were talking quietly, but Harry paid no attention to their conversation; he and Louve were focusing on their dog instead. So far the canine was unaware of the predators watching them; who were planning a quick and usually successful way of scaring off the intruders that involved the clueless pet.

Harry continued his silent pursuit in the trees, struggling to keep from shaking the leaves too much. He stretched out his bare foot towards the next branch, balancing himself on another. But the branch was too small to take his weight, and when he moved forward, part of it snapped. Harry swore to himself.

The dog's ears perked up and it looked up and started barking. Both Harry and Louve flinched at the sudden loud sound. They weren't the only ones startled; the intruders jumped and looked to the dog. The giant leaned down and asked the dog, in a very thick accent, what was wrong. Harry rolled his eyes, the dog was clearly informing them of the strangers in their midst…but humans were always blind and deaf to the obvious. The dog kept barking, straining against his leash, trying to get at the source of his distress.

Louve let out a little laugh. _"Stupid humans," _she said, _"they always ignore the obvious."_

"_How about we end his suffering?"_ Harry suggested with an evil laugh. Louve agreed. Harry quickly made his way through the trees until he was right near the she-wolf and then he gave her the signal. She started snarling and growling. The dog froze for a moment, then started growling and barking back, straining even harder to get away and at the hidden predator. Usually, domesticated animals would become afraid and flee when a predator came near, but dogs, especially big dogs, were always smug and sure of their own strength and sought to rid the world of these wild animals that could cause harm to their masters.

Harry almost burst out laughing when the dog made to lung forward, only to be yanked back roughly by the giant holding him. He really loved this job; domesticated animals were almost as stupid as the people who controlled them. Louve kept growling and this time Harry added his own; they needed to get that dog out of sight if they were going to kill him properly. But it didn't work, the giant's hold on the dog was too great, and the other humans were doing all they could to placate the animal.

Suddenly the wind changed. It wasn't noticeable to the people, but Harry, Louve, and the dog that the giant kept calling Fang noticed. The wind had shifted east, blowing towards the enraged dog, and with it brought Louve's scent. Fang's head whipped to the side and he started barking and straining in her direction. The intensity of his barking increased enough for the humans to realize something was probably out there. Harry and Louve kept growling, but to no avail, the humans just did not seem afraid. Anyone in their right mind would have run away at the prospect of a wolf attack, but these people must have been more stupid than they thought.

The old man looked at Fang, looked towards the trees, and then looked to the dark-haired man. He said something quietly to him which Harry didn't hear, but his gesture made the meaning clear: _check it out. _The dark-haired man nodded and turned towards the trees, pulling his wand out. Harry swore and climbed through the trees towards where the man was approaching Louve. The she-wolf was still young and Harry knew that wand had the potential to cause some harm. The man was getting too close to her and Harry decided to act.

He jumped from the tree; landing squarely on the man's back and knocked him to the ground. The other peopled jumped back in alarm, drawing their wands and shouting. Harry leapt up and back, drawing his dagger and placing himself between the people and Louve. The dark-haired man slowly picked himself up, catching his breath and Harry tensed. Out of the corner of his eye he saw the other people approaching him and he snarled, showing his teeth and brandishing his weapon.

They froze. The old man and woman stood to the side, staring at him with expressions he didn't recognize; the giant's expression was unreadable through all his hair, and the dark-haired man had straightened, sending him a sour look that clearly meant he didn't like being knocked over. Harry glared at them and growled, inwardly pleased when the adults looked fearful.

"_What are we going to do, Harry?"_ Louve said in a low whine. He glanced in her direction, hissing at her to be quiet and in the process missed it when the old man said something to the dark-haired man. His movement was not lost on them, however, for when he looked back the dark-haired man was watching him with a peculiar expression. He growled at him in warning.

The man just looked at him for a moment and then turned and looked at the older man. "Are you sure this is him, Albus?" he asked.

"Absolutely," the old man said, "look at his face; he's got Lily's eyes." He gestured towards Harry. "And I can just make out the scar."

The others looked at him again, closely, and Harry snarled. Suddenly the giant gasped.

"Merlin's beard, it is him," he said, "you were righ' Dumbledore." Harry's eyes widened and he looked at the old man closely; could he be the same Dumbledore whose name his mother had growled with dislike?

Before Harry could figure out what this meant, Fang got tired of the silence and started growling and barking at Harry again, trying to get across to his master that the Wild was here and they were in danger. He shot the dog a menacing look and sent it a snarl. The dog cringed and cowered on the ground, whimpering.

Whilst he had been exerting his dominance, Dumbledore gave a set of instructions to the others and while Harry hadn't heard most of it, he got the idea that the adults seemed skeptical, especially the dark man.

Louve whimpered again. _"We need to get away, Harry,"_ she said, _"oh; we never should have come here without one of your brothers."_ Harry silently agreed; they were in trouble. He could see the dark man fingering his wand again, obviously hesitating to do something.

"_Come on, Harry,"_ she said again, _"We know these woods better than anyone, let's just lose them and get my brethren to kill them later."_ Harry glanced around, and decided she was right, they had to flee, because he was out of his element here; these people were not afraid enough and they almost seemed to recognize him; Dumbledore knew of his scar, and that was reason enough to worry.

Before he could doubt himself, Harry gave Louve a signal, then turned and began to run into the trees. He heard the people shout something and knew they were following him. He ran and jumped into a tree, grabbing a low-hanging limb and swung himself up.

"Hurry, Severus!" he heard someone yell. Before he could wonder what was going on down below, he heard a shout and the next thing he knew a red light engulfed him and he blacked out.

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**(Ducks to avoid flying objects) Sorry about the cliffhanger! Please don't kill me. Everything will turn out alright...or will it? (Ducks again). The next update will be up soon, perhaps sooner if someone hits that little button in the corner...**

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	6. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Wow, I got some interesting reviews for the last chapter, and I think some of them deserve responses Author's Note: Wow, I got some interesting reviews for the last chapter, and I think some of them deserve responses.**

**fangedphoenix: your review made me laugh, I just wanted to share that :)**

**KekouanTheWhiteWolf: Thanks for the offer, I will definitely ask you if I need help.**

**L-uke-chan: Don't worry, Harry will have his say, and you're going to see a few more cliffhangers in this story (I think I've written at least two more so far), so just bear with me :)**

**I've been asked what kind of pairings to expect in this story (het, bi, or yaoi), and I'm only going to say this once – there will be no pairing in **_**this**_** story, but I do have a pairing planned for Harry in future stories. You can expect him to pair up with someone sometime around the 4****th**** or 5****th**** story (hopefully I'll write that far). But I'm not going to reveal what kind of pairing, and for only one reason: I don't want to lose readers who dislike that kind of pairing, and who will not want to read anymore once they find out who Harry ends up with. It won't happen for a while, so just try to enjoy the story as is. Also, whenever the pairing occurs, I'm keeping it pg-13, so there will not be anything hardcore, it's just difficult for me to write.**

**Wow, easily the longest note yet…well, hope everyone enjoys the chapter!**

**_side note_ – the next update won't be for another two weeks, I've got one hell of a busy week ahead of me.**

**_another side note_ – I think this is the longest chapter yet. Without the Author's note, it easily covered 13 pages. Enjoy!**

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**Chapter 5**

Dumbledore was in shock, and he knew he wasn't the only one. He had come to Village sur de Lac, looking for the Boy-Who-Lived, and he'd found him. But not in the way he'd expected. He'd half-expected to find the boy living in the village itself, perhaps with a small local family who were unaware of his identity. But his hopes were crushed when he and his companions had heard the stories of the _Enfant Sauvage_ in that inn last night. They'd ventured out this morning in search for this demon child, but Dumbledore was expecting to find no trace of him, to come back with the local legend crushed and then resume their search elsewhere. By no means had he expected to find those tales true and of the very person they were looking for.

Harry Potter, savior of the Wizarding World, lay Stunned on the foliage that littered the Forest floor, his fall softened by a quick spell from the Headmaster. They all stared at him a moment, taking in the boys appearance. The boy was small, lean, and filthy and they felt their stomachs turn slightly when they realized that most of the filth on him was blood, though they could see no visible injury on him.

The behavior of the Boy-Who-Lived had horrified them. Dumbledore could feel all his plans collapsing around him when he first saw the wild child draw a blade and _growling_ at them like some beast. And when he'd snarled at Fang, causing the much larger dog to cringe like a puppy, it had left them speechless. For some reason, the boy had attacked Severus, knocking him to the ground, and then threatened them before turning tail and fleeing into the trees. It had taken all of their skills to keep up before stunning him; the boy was very fast, even in the trees; indicating a lifetime of living in or near them.

Dumbledore stared at the fallen child for a moment longer and then turned to Severus. "Come on," he said, "let's get him to Hogwarts."

The Potions Master hesitated and Professor McGonagall voiced what must surely be the opinion of everyone present. "Was that…really necessary, Albus?" she asked.

"You saw how he acted," he said, waving towards Harry, "the boy is obviously wild and probably couldn't understand what we were saying anyway. What were we supposed to do? Especially when he started to run away? He _needs_ to be brought back to the castle; you know we can't leave him here."

The others still seemed unsure of what happened, but he could tell that there would be no more protests to his decisions. He looked back at Severus and nodded to him. The man sighed and went towards the boy, bending to pick him up.

All of a sudden, something jumped out from the trees and crouched over the unconscious child. It was wolf; a small wolf, probably very young by the looks of it. She hovered over Harry and snarled at them viciously; hackles raised, fangs exposed. Severus jumped back in alarm and raised his wand reflexively. The wolf seemed to notice this and growled even louder when she saw it.

For a fleeting moment, Dumbledore thought she was just hungry, half-starved by the small appearance of her, but the wolf made no move to harm the boy or drag him away; as a matter of fact, she sent Harry an almost concerned glance before growling at them again. Severus frowned, and then sent sparks from his wand, trying to scare the animal away. The wolf flinched, but didn't move; she just crouched even lower around the boy as though shielding him. Dumbledore sent sparks too, and then McGonagall joined in until the three of them were setting off sparks and bangs, trying to get the wolf to leave. But she refused to move.

In the end, Dumbledore saw they had no choice and he stunned the wolf. The others looked at him in surprise.

"We should bring her too," he said, ignoring their stares, "clearly there is more going on here than we realize."

So they did. Severus picked up the fallen child and Hagrid carried the wolf out of the Forest until they were able to make their way back home via Apparition and portkey. The wolf they left near Hagrid's hut where she would be revived at a later time; after they had the boy looked over.

They brought Harry to the Hospital Wing and placed him in a separate room off to the side where there would be some privacy. They got him settled and then called for Madame Pomfrey, who came in and checked him over. She ran several diagnostic spells over him and administered a few potions that Snape recognized as nutrition supplements; obviously it must be hard to get a balanced diet in the wilderness. After about half an hour of this, she finished and gave Dumbledore her report.

"He's surprisingly healthy," she said, "all that blood that covered him was not his own, though I shudder to think of how it got on him. He's been well-fed for the most part; I just gave him a few supplements for a few vitamins he's been lacking. He's a little small for his age, but very lean, he's got quite a bit of muscle built up in those arms and legs of his. He's also accumulated quite a number of scars on his body; they're all over the place. Nothing too serious," she added when she saw their alarmed looks, "just little white ones all over his limbs and chest; probably from climbing in trees."

"Or claws," Snape muttered to himself. Dumbledore shot him a look, silencing him. Pomfrey knew enough about the boy as it is, she didn't need to be given any hints to his possible up-bringing.

After her report was finished, Madame Pomfrey asked them if they needed anything else and Dumbledore shook his head, thanking her as she left. He, Severus, and McGonagall were left with the boy and they looked at him for a moment, hesitating. Realizing it was inevitable; Dumbledore raised his wand and revived him.

As soon as the boy's eyes were opened, he got up and crouched on the bed, staring around him. For a moment it seemed he was disoriented, and then his gaze fell onto the three adults standing near the doorway. At once the boy screamed and snarled at them, his hand going to his side where his dagger used to be. Once he realized he was unarmed, he snarled even more and jumped to the floor, putting the bed between him and his captors.

Dumbledore tried to approach him, but the boy just growled and threw the bedpan at him. The Headmaster took one look at those wild, mistrusting eyes and realized there was nothing he could do at the moment. He backed out of the room, gesturing for the other two to follow him. He closed and locked the door behind him, ignoring the wolfish cry of rage that sounded from within.

"What do we do now?" McGonagall asked; her face pale from the scene she had just witnessed.

He sighed. "For now we wait."

* * *

The next two days were some of the scariest of Harry's young life. After howling his anger and fear when the door to his prison was closed, he'd tried to find a way out; but there were none. The door through which his captors had left was locked and try as he might, Harry could not force it open. There was a window in his little room, but it too was locked tight; by magic he figured. Again he swore his lack of a magical medium; if he'd had a wand he'd be out by now. When it became apparent that he would be here for a while, he wondered if he could steal a wand if and when food was brought to him, but that plan proved useless.

His food appeared magically on a small table next to his bed. At first, Harry had been wary of touching it, not trusting the food that had appeared out of nowhere. Eventually, the aches of his stomach forced him to eat it, though it was the strangest food he'd ever eaten. There was some trips of meat, thin, crispy, and cooked far too much for his liking. There were also some cooked eggs (he vaguely recognized those from his brief time with his relatives) as well as some sweet and tart yellow drink and a sticky, dripping brown thing that was soft to the touch. The last two items he'd barely touched and never ate again when they appeared the next morning, he'd found the taste far too sweet and the sticky substance that had coated his food made his stomach feel bloated. He growled to himself, how was he supposed to defend himself if his very meal made it impossible to move?

The other two meals that appeared each day were more tolerable and had more meat to them, but Harry was barely hungry; having been used to infrequent eating since an early age. He figured out early that the shiny metal thing he'd chucked at the old man was a thing for him to deposit his waste in; the faint aroma of past deposits had told him that, though he doubted other humans would have been able to detect the smell. The bed's use was obvious, he wasn't that ignorant of human ways, and he admitted he enjoyed the fact that it was high off the ground, even if only by a foot or two; he'd gotten quite accustomed to sleeping in treetops at home.

Speaking of home, he had no idea where he was, or how close it was to his home. He had no idea if his mother and brothers knew that he'd been kidnapped. He wondered if there was a way to escape, or get word to her somehow, so that she could come and get him; for surely the Royal Wolf would do anything in her power to get her son back. Only a few hours after waking, Harry had placed himself near the window and howled desperately, wondering if there were any lesser wolves that would hear him and relay his message back to his Forest.

The only voice that had answered was Louve's. He'd cried with relief when he realized he was not alone and when he pressed his face as close to the cold glass as he could, he could see his young friend sitting on the grass below. She howled back to him night and day, almost nonstop, letting the world know her anger at his imprisonment. Her constant vigil kept most of his despair at bay, but Harry knew he couldn't stay in this room for long; the confined spaces would drive him mad.

Luckily he only had to endure it for two days. The evening of the second day, he heard the door to his prison being unlocked and he positioned himself in a defensive stance when it opened. His visitor was the old man, Dumbledore, if he remembered correctly. When Dumbledore looked up at him, he growled from his position in the far corner next to the window, baring his teeth and wishing he had the natural weapons his family did.

Dumbledore stared at him for a moment, and then conjured a chair with his wand; the sight of which increased Harry's growling a pitch. Before sitting, the man made a show of stowing his wand away and showed Harry his empty hands, as though to reassure him that he was safe. Harry lowered his growls but did not move from his spot near the window, trusting that the bed would be an adequate barrier if something should happen.

"I'm so sorry about all of this," Dumbledore began, speaking slowly as though he believed Harry could not understand him, "but you really didn't give us much of a choice back there." Harry glared at him.

"Where am I?!" he demanded.

Dumbledore reeled back in shock. "You can speak!" he exclaimed.

"Of course I can speak!" Harry retorted, "Now where am I and why did you bring me here?"

The man hesitated. "You are at Hogwarts, my boy, in the Hospital Wing, to be exact."

"Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said with a small smile, "Hogwarts castle. It's actually a small school where magical children learn how to channel their powers through spells and other forms of magic."

Harry nodded slowly. "I see, so why was I brought here?" he asked again.

"My boy, you are a wizard," was the answer.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes, I am aware of that," he snapped, "that doesn't answer my question."

Dumbledore appeared a little bit surprised. "Well, you're not just any wizard," he said slowly, "you're a very important wizard in our world. You see, about ten years ago, there was an evil man named Lord Vol-"

"Lord Voldemort," Harry snapped again, his patience wearing thin, "who killed my parents and tried and failed to kill me, giving me this scar on my forehead and dubbing me the Boy-Who-Lived in your world. _Yes_, I _know_ all of this; Mother filled me in on all of this a while ago. You still haven't told me why I'm here."

Dumbledore didn't look too pleased at being interrupted, but his annoyed expression changed at the word 'Mother'. He looked confused for a moment before asking, "Your mother?"

"Forget it," Harry said, "you haven't answered my question, and I'm not answering any of yours." He smirked, inwardly pleased when the man seemed disturbed by his expression.

"Well," he said again, after pausing a moment, "so you know about what happened ten years ago, but do you know exactly _why_ you're so important to our world?"

"Because I survived as an infant and supposedly defeated the man," Harry said, "and this was a big deal because of his reputation as being unbeatable. So?"

"My boy," Dumbledore began, and Harry growled at the use of that term again; it was far too close to _my son_, an endearment Asena used often, but Dumbledore didn't seem to notice Harry's irritation and continued. "The world believes you defeated the Dark Lord that night, but the possibility exists that he is still out there. Many of his followers still walk free and believe that he will return and all of them would look for any chance to get revenge for their fallen leader. That means getting to _you_." He leaned back and gave Harry a concerned look. "Now, if I managed to track you down, don't you think the most feared Dark Lord in over a century could have managed the same?"

Harry frowned, not in the least intimidated by this subtle threat, or warning, whatever it was. He'd never felt at any way in danger in his home, not with his family by his side. And he was about to say so when he realized arguing was not going to get him out of here. He let out an inaudible sigh and came to the conclusion that he was going to have to play along with Dumbledore for the time being and see what happened.

"I see," he said, "so you brought me here out of fear for my safety?"

Dumbledore smiled slightly, pleased with the fact that Harry was coming to understand things so quickly. "Yes, but that was not the only reason." Harry gave him a curious look and he explained. "You see, my boy, both of your parents had great magical power and they learned here, at this very school, how to use it. I sense great potential in you, and it would be a shame if that were wasted. Only here at this school can you learn how to control your magic; don't you want to learn that?"

Harry frowned slightly. The thought of learning to use his magic and gaining a medium was tempting, but he was already very pissed off at being kidnapped. He glanced at the man, and at the room around him and to his dismay realized there was really no way out of this, not if he wanted to get home. Half of his mind focused on properly agreeing to Dumbledore's proposal of staying at the school to learn in a convincing manner while the other half immediately began to secretly plan a way for him to escape at his earliest convenience.

* * *

Harry was still secretly planning a means for escape when Dumbledore ended their conversation and asked for him to follow him to another part of the castle he called his office. They exited the Hospital Wing and made their way through several hallways; Harry found himself getting lost very quickly and wondered how he would learn his way around if he did indeed stay here long enough to learn anything. Glancing around curiously, he saw the walls were lined with portraits that moved and spoke to one another and as he followed Dumbledore up one set of stairs he saw that other staircases were shifting positions seemingly at will.

It was on one of these staircases when he happened to glance down to the ground floor and he suddenly realized something.

"Hang on a second," he said, stopping. Dumbledore turned to look at him, a guarded expression in his eyes. He wondered if the man thought he was changing his mind.

"Is there something wrong, Harry?" Dumbledore asked.

Harry looked towards the ground floor and gestured. "Louve," he said, "I want her here." The Headmaster looked confused. "My friend," Harry said pointedly, "the wolf. I know she's here, I could hear her from the room back there."

"Ah," Dumbledore said, "I understand now. We've been wondering about her." It seemed as though an unspoken question had been answered. "You want her to be brought inside?" he asked.

"Yes."

He sighed. "I'm not sure if that can be done," he said, "you see, there could be a safety issue." Harry looked confused, so Dumbledore continued. "Is she tame?" he asked.

"No," Harry said, "she isn't tame. But then again, neither am I," he added with a smirk.

Dumbledore paused for a moment, and then gave a small grin. "Very well then," he said, "but we'll have to back track a little." He then made his way back down the stairs and Harry followed, pleased with his small victory.

The way back downstairs took a little longer than Harry expected, it seemed there were a lot of side passages they needed to take. Eventually he found himself climbing down a very grand, marble staircase that led into a very large room he heard Dumbledore call the Entrance Hall. It was gigantic, his cliff could have fit inside it several times and the ceiling was so high that he couldn't even make out the details of its shadowed heights. When they reached the bottom of the staircase, he looked around and saw some smaller staircases underneath leading to lower levels. Several small doors and some hallways branched off the side and back walls. The wall across from them was covered with portraits and statues that flanked a huge set of double doors.

Another set of double doors were to the left and it was these that Dumbledore turned too. He flicked his wand towards them and they opened slightly and Harry could see some sunlight and grass through the gap.

"_Louve!" _Harry yelled, though it came out as a very low howl. He was aware of Dumbledore's slight jump and realized the man had yet to be accustomed to this form of speech.

Only a few moments passed before he heard Louve's answering howl and soon she was running up the stairs and through the double doors, streaking her way towards him; her claws clicking on the floor. Harry couldn't restrain himself and he ran towards her, ignoring Dumbledore's move to stop him. They collided in the middle of the Hall, their momentum knocking them to the ground and Louve covered Harry's face with licks. He laughed and they wrestled briefly on the ground in their excitement to see each other again.

A slight cough got their attention and they reluctantly pulled themselves apart and stood. Dumbledore gave Harry a pointed look. "Are you ready to proceed to my office now?" he asked.

Harry nodded. The Headmaster turned and led the way back up the stairs, and though Louve tried to get Harry to follow her outside for a moment, they both went with him. As they walked through the numerous stone hallways lined with portraits and suits of armor, Louve quietly asked Harry what was going on and he quickly filled her in on his tentative agreement and his intent to escape. After a few minutes, they reached a hallway that was completely devoid of doors and decorations save for a tapestry and a statue of a gargoyle set in a recess in the wall. Dumbledore came to a stop at the gargoyle and Harry looked around in confusion. Weren't they going to an office?

"Lemon drop," Dumbledore said suddenly, leaving Harry questioning his sanity.

All of a sudden, the gargoyle came to life and stood, stepping to the side; startling a quiet yelp out of Louve. Behind the gargoyle the wall opened and revealed a hidden spiral staircase.

"Come on then" Dumbledore said. He stepped onto the staircase which started to move slowly upwards. Nervously, he stepped onto it with Louve following.

Louve nudged his leg. _"Think he's trying to show off?"_ she whispered.

"_Undoubtedly," _he said.

At the top of the stairs they reached a door, which Dumbledore opened, gesturing for them to come inside. Upon entering, the Headmaster went to sit behind a mahogany desk and Harry saw that there were three other people in the room; the same three that had been in the Forest when he was kidnapped. The man and woman were sitting in chairs facing the desk and the giant was sitting on a couch to the side that had seen better days. Harry and Louve entered, hesitating, and took in their surroundings. The office was round and large, filled with bookshelves and small tables that held peculiar whirring and spinning objects. The back wall held a multitude of portraits; the occupants all snoozing in their frames.

The door closed unaided behind them, the click sounding ominous to their ears. Realizing how enclosed the space was, Harry felt very vulnerable; and judging from Louve's lowered ears and tail, she was feeling that way too. And Dumbledore's welcoming smile was not helping.

"Just take a seat, Harry, so we can begin," Dumbledore said.

"_Let's get this over with,"_ Louve said. Harry nodded, took a deep breath, and went over to the proffered chair. He sat down stiffly, perched on the edge lest his urge to run overpower him. Louve lay down at his feet; her tense figure displaying a similar urge to flee. He suppressed a sigh, and kept telling himself he was here so he could get away; that was all.

"Just to clarify a few things," Dumbledore began, folding his hands together on his desk, speaking to the other adults, "Harry here has agreed to come here to learn when the new term starts in September."

"Oh," the woman said, "welcome to Hogwarts," she added to Harry. He just glanced at her, his expression guarded, when he noticed the dark-haired man had had a surprised look for a brief moment.

Dumbledore smiled. "Now, Harry, before I tell you about the school and what to expect once the term begins, there are a few things that don't add up. Where have you been living this whole time?"

Harry hesitated, and then told Louve what the Headmaster was asking him, though none of the people in the room was aware of this exchange. Louve seemed unsure, but then told him to go ahead and tell them the truth, perhaps the knowledge of his upbringing and of Asena would scare them enough to let him go. He doubted it but decided to tell them anyway.

So he told them of his unconventional childhood; how the Dursleys left him in the Forest and how Asena had raised him as her own. He told them about his brothers, Istemi and Bumin, and how he considered the lesser wolf pack as part of his extended family and that Louve was sort of a close cousin in his mind. He was aware of their discomfort when he referred to the various Wolves as his Mother or brother or cousin, and for some reason it pleased him. He liked that he made them uncomfortable, maybe that would be enough for them to let him go.

Harry told them about how he'd become aware of the village near the Forest and how uneasy it made his home and about his recent involvement in getting rid of those who trespassed. When he was done he found that he'd relaxed slightly into his chair and felt a little bit of accomplishment from the fact that he'd spent so much time with these people without bolting.

When it became clear he was done, Dumbledore sat back in his chair. "Well," he said, "that is quite an impressive tale, and it's explained a lot," he sighed slightly and leaned forward again. "Now I think it's my turn to fill _you_ in on how things work here at Hogwarts. In two weeks, on September 1st, the first term of your first year will begin. Every student begins their education here after their eleventh birthday, meaning some are older than others in their year, and attends the school for seven years. In your first and second year, you only take a core group of classes with your house to build up your skills in magic, and starting your third year you will be able to select extra classes depending on your possible future career. In your fifth year, you take your Ordinary Wizarding Levels, or O.W.L.s, the scores determining what classes you will take your remaining two years."

Harry blinked in confusion after this onslaught of information. "What?" he finally said.

Dumbledore smiled, waving it off. "Don't worry; I don't think a single first year has ever understood that speech anyway. Most figure it out as they go along."

Harry nodded, not trusting himself to speak. Something told him the Headmaster _wanted_ to confuse him, but for what purpose, he wasn't sure.

"Now, I mentioned Houses, and the Houses are very important, they determine who you go to classes with, where you sleep and eat, everything. Back when Hogwarts was founded, the four founders Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, Helga Hufflepuff, and Salazar Slytherin created a house for each of them, each one based on a certain trait the founders valued above all others in their students. Once sorted into a house, you will sleep in the House dorm, spend time in the House common room, eat at the House table and attend classes with House mates. Now, by no means are you spending _all_ your time in you House, you will have opportunities to mingle with other Houses, and as a matter of fact, we encourage that behavior."

_Really now?_ Harry thought, _because it sounds like you're doing the exact opposite_. He wondered what was so important about Houses anyway.

"Now, the Houses and their traits. First, Gryffindor; which values courage, Ravenclaw; which values wisdom, Hufflepuff; loyalty, and Slytherin; cunning. All four are important in their own right, and each House has had notable witches and wizards pass through these halls. Try not to worry about which House you'll be sorted into, you'll find that out during the Welcoming Feast.

"So let's move on to your abilities, so we can figure out where to start you. Now, from what we've seen, your language skills are sufficient, so we won't need to teach you any of that. What I'm really curious about is your magical ability. Have you shown any control over your magic so far?"

Harry briefly felt some annoyance; of course they'd be interested in his magical ability; that was the whole point to all of this, wasn't it? Because he was the Boy-Who-Lived? Suppressing a frown, he decided to answer.

"I think so," he said, trying to sound unsure, "Mother said I've displayed some degree of control, if not unconsciously. When I was at the Dursley's that short time, I knew I needed glasses. But that dependency made life in the woods hard, so I guess my magic fixed my eyesight. I've also shown an increased healing ability…my senses are stronger than most humans." He sighed. "Basically, Mother said my magic just adapted itself so I had a better chance of survival. That and it made Listening easier."

"Listening?" Professor McGonagall asked from his right.

"It's how I can understand Louve, and other animals in the Forest. Asena says I'm a Speaker too, so I can talk back to them."

"So you can understand and talk to _all_ animals?" Dumbledore asked; a strange expression on his face.

"I think so, yes," Harry didn't like that look. "Why?"

"Hmm," was his only reply. The Headmaster got a pensive thought. "Would you be alright if we tried something?"

"Like what?" Harry asked defensively. Louve looked up curiously, her ears alert, the scent of his caution in her nose.

"Oh," Dumbledore said, "Don't worry, it's nothing complicated, I was just wondering if you could try and talk to my familiar?" He gestured to the side.

Harry's ears pricked up at the word 'familiar'. Was there some sort of magical animal in here he hadn't noticed? He looked in the direction the man had pointed. On a golden perch near a curtained window was a small bird with red and gold plumage. Its wings and tail were small and its eyes large; indicating youth. But about the creature he could almost _feel_ magic buzzing. Even though Harry had never seen one before, there was no doubt in his mind what it was – a phoenix.

Dumbledore seemed pleased when Harry's eyes lit up. "Yes, he's a phoenix," he said, seeming to know what was going on through Harry's mind, "and his name is Fawkes. Go ahead and talk to him."

Harry hesitated and then stood. He took a step towards the perch and felt Louve nudge him with her nose, silently urging him to go. He made his way over and Fawkes blinked a bit and looked up at him curiously.

"Hello," he said softly, silently cursing when it came out in English. Until the bird replied, he wouldn't be able to respond in its speech.

The bird just blinked at him and ruffled its wings.

"Don't worry if he doesn't reply," Dumbledore said, his tone irritating Harry to no end.

Fawkes seemed to understand what his human said, for he glanced over and gave a little shrug of his wings. Looking to Harry, he gave a little chirp which Harry didn't understand. Fawkes made the same chirp again, a little louder this time, like he wanted Harry to understand. This time, Harry could feel his magic latch onto the sound, so that the third chirp was as clear to him as his native language.

"_Don't let him get to you; he's not as all-knowing as he thinks,"_ Fawkes said.

Harry smiled. _"Thanks," _he replied in kind, aware of the shocked reactions of those behind him. _"I'll keep that in mind."_

Fawkes ruffled his feathers again. _"Do you mind bringing me with you to your seat; I feel my presence may help you relax. That and I don't greatly appreciate being left by this window for everyone to forget."_

"_Sure."_ Harry said. He held out his hands, hearing and ignoring Dumbledore's protest, and let Fawkes clamber into his palm. Walking back carefully to his chair, he sat down and cradled the seemingly young bird in his lap, stroking his feathers. Fawkes let out a pleased trill and made himself comfortable. Louve sat up and placed her head on Harry's lap, sniffing the small but powerful animal, who blinked at her with his large black eyes. When Louve removed her head, Harry looked up with a pleased expression.

Dumbledore seemed equally pleased, but the tightness around his mouth indicated he really wasn't. For some reason, that made Harry even more pleased. Glancing over, he saw that Professor McGonagall looked surprised, Snape had a slight smirk, and Hagrid seemed excited (introductions had long since been made).

"Well then," Dumbledore said, "let's keep going. So it's obvious you have some degree of control over your magic, which you will perfect in your classes. As far as your Speaking ability, the fact that you say you can understand any animal surprises me, for I've never heard of or read about anyone with that ability, so this could be interesting."

Something suddenly occurred to Harry, and he was forced to interrupt what was obviously a longer speech.

"Uh," he said hesitantly, "there might be a problem."

"And what is that?"

Harry bit his lip. "I can't read."

"You can't?" McGonagall exclaimed. Only Snape seemed unsurprised.

"Yeah, and I can't write either."

"Asena never taught you that skill?" Dumbledore asked.

He shook his head, feeling annoyed again. He was raised in a Forest, how exactly was he supposed to learn to read and write, it wasn't like wolves had any literacy. "She didn't think it was important."

The Headmaster rubbed his temples. "Well," he sighed, "this complicates things a bit, but we can make do. This just means we have one more thing to teach you."

"Albus," Snape interjected, "you can't expect us to teach him to read and write in two weeks!"

"No," he agreed, "but we can make some progress and teach him tricks to make it easier."

Harry frowned and fidgeted, causing Fawkes to chirp. He knew his plan to learn enough to escape would be hard, but hearing all the stuff he would have to do made him feel nervous.

"Well then," Dumbledore said, clasping his hands together and standing, "I think that covers everything for now. It's getting late and there's much work to do." He made his way around the desk and Harry noticed the others standing, so he stood too. Fawkes chirped, and Harry glanced at the Headmaster before hurrying over and putting the phoenix back on his perch.

"Minerva, Severus, Hagrid," Dumbledore said, "I'm sure all of you have much work to do, so you may retire for now. I'm taking Harry to his rooms, and then I'll be back later to discuss lesson plans." The others nodded and Dumbledore turned back to Harry. "Come along then," he said.

Harry followed him down the staircase and through several hallways with Louve trailing behind. From what he could see, it seemed they were heading downstairs. When they reached the second floor, Dumbledore led Harry to a bare patch of wall in a corner.

"Here we are," Dumbledore said. Harry blinked and looked up at him in disbelief. He just laughed. "One thing you should remember in Hogwarts, Harry, appearances can be deceiving." He turned back to the wall and placed his palm on the stone. After a moment or two, the stone emitted a soft glow that grew until it encompassed a section of wall as high as the ceiling and four feet wide. Then the glow subsided, and the section that it had covered gave a heave, and sank into the wall an inch, before sliding to the right and disappearing.

Harry started in surprise, looking at the dark passageway the moving wall had revealed. Dumbledore smiled at him, and led the way inside. About ten feet in, there was a wooden door; it was here the Headmaster stopped.

"Behind this door is your room," he said, "Now that entrance back there doesn't open with a verbal password, unlike other rooms here, but with a person's magical signature. Currently, the room is keyed into me and most of the Hogwarts staff. Before I leave, I'll key your signature in as well. Later on, I'll show you how to add other signatures should you want a Housemate to come in. Follow me so far?"

Harry nodded, slightly impressed by the magic, though he wasn't too pleased by the fact most of the teachers could get in, and he hoped he could limit access later, he didn't want Dumbledore dropping by too often.

"Alright, let's key you in. Now place your hand on the door here and hold it there." Harry did as he was told and saw Dumbledore take out his wand and wave it, saying a spell he didn't hear clearly. The wood beneath his hand grew warm and glowed. After some moments the wood returned to normal.

"There you go, your signature is in," Dumbledore said, "now I have to go and set things up for tomorrow. Feel free to turn in. In half an hour, a creature called a house elf will come in and ask what you want for dinner. They'll deliver it too."

"Alright," Harry said. He hesitated, sensing that the Headmaster was waiting for something and added, "thank you."

Dumbledore seemed pleased. "You're welcome, Harry. Goodnight." He turned and left and the wall closed behind him. Harry was left in the dim hallway in front of his door.

"_Well?" _He turned and saw Louve looking at him expectantly. _"Are we going in or not?"_

"_Alright,"_ he sighed, and opened the door, praying Dumbledore hadn't decorated it personally; from the look of his robes and office the man had an odd sense of taste.

Turned out his praying was unnecessary, for his room was _perfect_. Slightly round in shape the room was only slightly smaller than Dumbledore's office, but its sparse furnishings made it seem bigger. Straight across the room towards the left was a large four-poster bed with dark green sheets and pillow covers and a dark blue comforter. The paneling was of dark pinewood and the curtains were a light blue made of a gossamer material. The stone floor was mostly bare save for a dark green shag rug in the center, and a desk, chair, and wardrobe made of the same dark pine.

But by far, his favorite things were the walls and windows. The windows were huge and curtained, showing a magnificent view of a lake and Forest. His eyes lit up when he saw it. The walls had brown wood paneling on the bottom three feet and the rest was painted to look like a blue, partly cloudy sky. The ceiling matched. Lining the walls in various places were potted plants of variations he didn't know. Potted plants hung from the ceiling as well. A lamp with lit candles hung from the middle and several lit candles were placed around the room.

"_Wow,"_ Louve said, _"It feels like home."_

"_Yeah, it does,"_ he said. He closed the door behind him and crossed over to the bed and sat down. As he sat, he noticed the sun setting outside. To his surprise, the color of the painted walls changed to match the sky outside, and was now colored pink and orange and red. He grinned and wondered if it would mirror the stars at night as well.

"_That's a nice touch,"_ Louve commented. He glanced at her, and saw she was making herself comfortable on the shag rug. _"I guess they're trying to make you feel as comfortable as possible."_

"_It's about time,"_ he said, _"considering how the past few days went."_ He looked over at her. _"What did you do while I was locked up anyway?"_

She shrugged. _"Not much actually. I stayed as close to you as I possibly could, despite the Forest that was nearby. I don't know how good your view is, but that Forest is many times larger than our home, and it smells older somehow."_

That caught his interest. _"Did you get to explore it any?"_

"_No, like I said, I didn't want to leave your side."_

Harry smiled at her. He stood and went to her side, dragging the comforter with him. Sitting, he leaned over and flung an arm around her, laying his head on her flank. _"Let's just try not to get too cozy,"_ he said.

"_Because you intend to run away, right?"_

"_As soon as I possibly can," _was the answer, _"but I'll have to learn how too first…the next two weeks are going to be very trying, we have a lot to learn."_

"_We?"_ Louve said with a laugh, _"who's we? __**You're**__ the one who has to learn. Me? I'm going to sit on this rug, eat, and sleep. That's it."_

He raised his head, smirked at her, and punched her shoulder. She gave a snort and thumped him with her tail. Noticing her lowered ears and quiet growl, Harry grinned and growled back. In moments they were wrestling on the floor; Louve mouthing his arms while he pulled her fur and tail, all the while laughing.

Thirty minutes later, Bibby the house elf popped into the room, expecting to take dinner orders from a young human. She was surprised to find said human curled up on the rug with a small wolf, covered in a dark-blue comforter, sleeping soundly. She hesitated, and then decided the young waif needed sleep and she left.

* * *

**Hope everyone enjoyed the chapter! Don't forget to leave me plenty of reviews so that I will feel motivated to post as soon as possible!**


	7. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Hey everybody! Sorry the late update, I wasn't lying when I said I was going to be busy these past few weeks. Hope everyone enjoys their Memorial Day Weekends (for those of us in the U.S.) and has fun…..I'm spending it at work…lucky me. (I'm only partially sarcastic, we get paid time and half on holidays, woohoo!)**

**Anywho, back to business. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, glad ya'll enjoyed it. Just a little side note here **_**updates will be every two weeks now**_** instead of my old, once-a-week attempt I had there. I just haven't had time to write in a while, and I want to catch up.**

**Just to let people know, the story is going to follow canon from about now pretty much through the whole story. I'm writing from the book, so it's not going to be **_**that**_** different, pretty much the same events, just Harry reacts a little differently most of the time. You'll see what I mean.**

**Hope everyone enjoys the story! (btw – another long chapter… 15 pages this time!)**

_**A/n2: Hey guys, just to let you know, I reposted this chapter because I forgot to add something at the very end of this one. Please check the Author's note at the end of the chapter for it.**_

* * *

**Chapter 6**

Harry was right when he said those two weeks would be trying; he didn't know how right. His lessons began almost immediately and there was a lot to cover.

Professor McGonagall took the job of teaching him to read and write. He spent two hours in the morning and two in the late afternoon in her office – which was rather cozy actually – learning the alphabet she wrote on the chalkboard and poring over parchments filled with simple sounds and sentences that she helped him sound out and try to read. The third day, after he had gotten a few basics and could recognize all 26 letters and various numbers and symbols, she showed him two spells to help him: _recito_, which read to him in his own voice, and _prescribo_, which dictated his words and wrote them on the parchment. The Professor had looked quite surprised when he'd been able to cast the spell on her wand his second try. He didn't see the significance, but found that it made things easier so he didn't worry about it. He was disappointed though, when he learned that he could only practice those spells with supervision and any possibilities for him to escape with a wand were crushed.

Despite the difficulty of the lessons, Harry found himself enjoying them. He liked the challenge, and so far McGonagall was a fair teacher. His other lessons on the other hand, were far less pleasant.

For two hours in the early afternoon everyday, Harry was forced to endure Professor Snape's presence in his room, while the man showed him how he was to behave amongst other humans. When the lessons had started, he'd sensed the man's reluctance to teach him and Harry attributed that to the fact that it had been Snape who'd stunned him. But then again, it could have been due to the impression Harry made his first morning, when Dumbledore brought him to breakfast in a vast room called the Great Hall (in which he saw a ceiling with an even better charm than the one on his walls). Apparently he'd given the people a scare when he ate. He supposed his table manners weren't up to snuff, but, honestly, Harry thought, what had they expected? He had been raised by wolves.

But they hadn't been the only ones appalled. When Harry had sat down at the table and seen all the food on the table, he'd been horrified. Only five or six people were at the table, but all the food could have fed thirty. Considering his upbringing, and all the winters of near starvation, his first instinct had been to eat as much as he could; because in the wild, there was no guarantee more food would be available for a while. To his shock, the others had barely picked at their food, hardly eating anything and leaving most of it on the table untouched. Such a display of waste horrified him. And they had been appalled by _his_ table manners. Apparently, none of them had spent a cold night going hungry because all the prey had left.

So now he had to learn how to behave. He couldn't help but see the irony in it; they kidnapped him from the wild and now he had to act like it hadn't happened. The first thing Professor Snape showed him was, obviously, table manners. He was told not to eat like he hadn't eaten in a week, but to pace himself. There would always be food. Harry hadn't made my promises; that concept would be hard for him to get used too, but he agreed to try.

His least favorite part was the grooming lessons. Professor Snape had brought some spare Hogwarts robes and uniforms to show him how to properly dress. Now, Harry understood humans and modesty, but living with wolves had not ingrained that social skill in his mind. His clothing had simply been a protection for his more vulnerable parts from sharp branches and the cold; he'd only worn what was necessary. So when Snape tried to show him how he would have to wear many layers of stifling, itchy clothing as a part of the uniform, he hadn't understood its purpose. But Snape had gotten harsh with him and Harry reluctantly put up with it. By the fourth day, he was wearing simple trousers, a button-up shirt and simple black robe to meals and lessons; which he would continue to do. One thing he refused for quite a while was shoes. Being able to feel the floor beneath his feet helped his balance and was necessary for him to navigate in trees. But he hadn't been able to win that fight, and reluctantly wore black dress shoes and socks when he had too.

Louve's reaction when he first started wearing these clothes had been less than pleasing. She had taken one look at him and fallen over, laughing and thumping her tail on the floor. Scowling at her only made her laugh harder.

"_You look ridiculous," _she said after catching her breath, _"what did they do with your hair anyway?"_

He frowned and ran his hand through his hair. It had been trimmed and combed, and no longer had its wild look. One battle he'd won though; Harry refused to have it cut short, so the neater black locks still hung to his shoulders.

"_Does it really look that weird?"_ he'd asked, feeling strangely self-conscious.

Louve had rolled over on her side, resting her head on her chin at a strange angle. _"A little,"_ she'd admitted, _"but I guess you've got no choice, right?"_

"_Pretty much, at least until we get out of here anyway."_

She'd given him a wolfish version of a shrug. _"Could be worse."_

He wondered how.

There were some good parts though. Dumbledore had showed Harry the spell for his room's wards, also showing surprise at his obvious skill. He'd also told Harry that once he was sorted; his room would be connected to his House so he could keep it. That had greatly relieved Harry, for his room became his refuge in the evenings after lessons, where he could wear what he wanted and just spend time with Louve.

The rest of his free time Harry spent outside and he and Louve enjoyed the highly magical feel to the wilderness. Harry and Louve had been greatly disappointed to learn that they were not to go out unsupervised and that the Forest was forbidden; according to Dumbledore it was dangerous. He'd rolled his eyes; figuring their definitions of dangerous were completely different, but reluctantly agreed not to enter it…yet. He had to keep the façade of obedience to make it easier to slip away later. The area around the lake was nice though, and Louve had found a nice secluded place with a tree that was covered with bushes overlooking the water that she intended to show him when they were alone.

Harry also found himself enjoying Hagrid's company, who was obviously only half-human, Louve's nose had detected such. Hagrid was the gamekeeper, and lived in a hut on the grounds with his dog Fang, who shied away from Harry and Louve when they were around; but then again, they both had a tendency to growl their dominance when around the canine. Harry and Hagrid both shared a love of the Wild and animals, even those who most people thought too dangerous. Fang and Louve eventually got along better, though Louve's hackles had risen when he started sniffing too close to her tail; which had Harry and Hagrid laughing.

By the end of the first week, Harry felt that he'd adjusted well enough considering, and was making acceptable progress in reading and writing. He'd even gotten somewhat used to the clothing; at least enough to tolerate them when he had to. Even his table manners had improved, though he still ate a little too quickly and messily for their taste. Louve had made herself comfortable as well. She loved her spot on the rug and making comments during his lessons to try to mess him up.

The morning of his eighth day at Hogwarts, Dumbledore asked Harry to see him after breakfast. He told him that it was time for Harry to get his school supplies, and after seeing how well Harry and Hagrid had gotten along, Dumbledore decided to have the gamekeeper take him…along with Snape to ensure they didn't get sidetracked.

The next morning, Harry, dressed in some sneakers, slacks, and a t-shirt, met Hagrid in the Entrance Hall with Louve. A few moments later Snape joined them. Hagrid greeted them all cheerfully, Snape just grunted, and he pulled out a candy wrapper – a portkey Harry was told. Harry rolled his eyes, by now he was well aware of Dumbledore's candy addiction.

"Ready ter go, Harry?" Hagrid asked once they'd all walked beyond the wards of the castle.

"Sure," Harry said, "let's get this over with." He was aware of Snape's slight amusement at his reluctance.

Hagrid gave him a sympathetic look and clapped him on the shoulder. "Don' worry," he said, "it won' be too bad."

"This portkey is timed," Snape said, "so hurry up and grab a hold of it. And you," he said to Harry, "make sure you get a hold of that wolf of yours or she'll be left behind."

They all grabbed what part of the wrapper they could and Harry made sure to grab a handful of Louve's fur; who growled slightly in annoyance but had to put up with it. Suddenly, he felt a pull behind his navel and then the whole world was spinning and they were flying away from the castle to places unknown. Then it was over, and Harry felt his feet slam onto the ground, the force of his landing knocking him over. Seconds later, Louve crashed into him with a yelp and he growled and pushed her off.

Standing, he wiped the fur she'd gotten on him off, not because he really cared about his appearance, it was more for show, to irritate her. Which it did; she flattened her ears slightly and nipped at his leg. He laughed at her and then he finally got a look at his surroundings and let out a small gasp.

"Welcome ter Diagon Alley," Hagrid said, smiling.

Harry had never been in a Wizarding community before, so he had no idea what to expect, though animals in the Forest – birds mostly – had told him how Village sur de Lac had empty streets and scared people pretty much all of the time. The people here were obviously more trusting than the villagers, for they were _everywhere_. The winding cobbled street was packed with people peering through shop windows, carrying strangely shaped packages and purchasing the unique wares vendors had on display.

"Let's get going," Snape said, "we've got a lot to buy and I'd rather not spend the whole day here."

Something suddenly occurred to Harry. "What about money, I don't have any."

"Don' worry about that Harry," Hagrid said, "Didn' think yer parents ever left yeh anythin'?" He clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder. "First stop is Gringotts, that's our bank. Run by goblins."

"Goblins?" Harry asked excitedly, "Really? I've never seen a goblin before!"

Snape glanced over his shoulder from where he was leading the way. "Don't get too excited, they're good at what they do, but aren't much for conversation."

Harry briefly had the thought that that was something the Potions Master had in common with them. His only response though was "Hmm." After that brief exchange, Harry found himself distracted by everything there was to see and hear in the Alley. A store nearby was advertising cauldrons of all shapes and sizes; he even saw one large enough to fit a grown man that was made of solid gold. They passed an Apothecary filled with an unpleasant odor that had both boy and wolf cringing. A cart outside displayed various animal parts and Harry had to stop Louve from sniffing too close.

Several boys his age had their faces pressed against the window of the Quidditch Supply Shop.

"Check it out," one boy said, "The Nimbus Two-Thousand, the fastest broom ever."

Harry glanced over curiously. He'd never seen much in the way of broomsticks or Quidditch; it was only thanks to Professor McGonagall that he even knew what Quidditch was.

"Gringotts," Snape said, announcing their arrival.

Harry turned. They had reached a snowy white building that towered over all the others. Its windows and sidings were lined with gold. Snape climbed a stone staircase to the burnished bronze doors and the others hastened to follow. As he reached the top, Harry got his first look at a goblin. He was about three feet tall, with beady eyes and a wide mouth set in a greenish-grey swarthy face. His ears and beard were pointed and he had long fingers and feet. He kept plucking and smoothing his scarlet and gold uniform.

When the goblin saw them approaching, he gave them a little bow and opened the door for them. He noticed Harry's curious look and blinked at him before bowing again.

Harry gave him a little smile. "Thank you," he said, giving a respectable nod of his head. The goblin and his chaperones both seemed surprised.

"You're welcome sir," the goblin said hesitantly, revealing pointed teeth.

"Come on, Harry," Hagrid said. Harry nodded and followed him. He noticed Louve sniffing the goblin curiously; who appeared nervous at her close proximity, but she left when Harry called her.

Harry followed Hagrid and Snape inside a small entrance, and saw they were facing a second pair of doors, silver this time, with words engraved on them:

_Enter stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay most dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"Yeh'd have to be mad ter try an' rob this place," said Hagrid, "Safest place in the world fer anything yeh want ter keep safe – 'cept maybe Hogwarts. As a matter of fact, I've got an errand ter do anyway. Fer Dumbledore; Hogwarts business." Hagrid's chest puffed proudly, though Snape seemed annoyed.

A pair of goblins bowed them through the silver doors and they entered a vast marble hall. Long counters lined both sides with a third at the far end; about a hundred goblins were seated behind them on tall stools. Several doors along the back wall to the side of the shorter counter led to other parts of the building. A lot of people were lined in front of the counters while goblins wrote things down in large ledgers, weighed coins and examined precious stones.

Hagrid made his way to one counter, looking for a free goblin, while Snape crossed his arms and leaned against one wall. Harry sent him a curious look and the Potions Master waved towards Hagrid; it seemed the man would be waiting here for them.

"Mornin'," Hagrid said as they approached. The goblin looked up from his ledger with a bored expression. "We've come ter take some money outta Mr. Harry Potter's safe.

"You've got his key, sir?"

"It's in here somewhere," Hagrid said, and began digging through his pockets.

_Hagrid has my vault key?_ Harry wondered. _How did he get it?_

"Where did you get my key?" he asked.

"Eh? Oh," Hagrid said, still digging, "Dumbledore had it, gave it ter me fer the day."

For some reason, Harry really didn't like the thought of Dumbledore having access to his money.

"Ah! Here it is!" Hagrid help up a tiny golden key and handed it over to the impatient goblin.

The goblin held it up and peered at it closely. "Seems to be in order."

"An' I've also got a letter from Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid added, handing over a slip of parchment, "It's about the you-know-what in vault seven-hundred and thirteen."

Harry looked at him curiously as the goblin read the letter.

"Very well," he said, handing the letter back, "I will have someone send you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Another goblin came over, Harry assumed this was Griphook. "This way," he said, gesturing to a door in the back. Harry, Hagrid, and Louve followed.

"What's in vault 713?" Harry asked.

"Can' tell yeh that," Hagrid said mysteriously. Harry frowned but didn't press the matter.

Griphook showed them through a door and they entered a stone hallway with torches lining it. There was a little platform overlooking a chasm with steel tracks running over it. Griphook gave a whistle and a strange-looking cart came rattling up the tracks and came to a stop before them. They climbed in – Hagrid had some difficulty and Louve was reluctant – and they were off.

They went hurtling down a maze of twisted passages, and Harry didn't even try to remember the way, everything went by in a blur. At first he was nervous since Griphook wasn't steering, but apparently he didn't have too; the cart knew its own way.

Though the rushing air stung his eyes, Harry kept them wide open, trying to take in everything. He thought he saw a burst of fire down one passage.

"There are rumors tha' dragons guard some o' the high security vaults," Hagrid commented, having seen the fire too. "Golly, I'd like one o' them," he muttered.

Harry only half heard him, because they had passed into a large cave with stalagmites and stalactites growing from ground and ceiling. Louve gave an experimental howl, startling Hagrid and Griphook. She just sent Harry a grin, a sly look in her eyes. Harry laughed.

"Blimey," Hagrid said weakly, "don' do that. Think I'm gonna be sick…"

He did look a little green, though Harry thought he was being silly. He'd traveled at speeds this high on his family's backs; who had also made sudden turns if need be – he was used to this in a way.

The cart came to a stop in front of a round metal door. They got off the platform and Hagrid took a moment to lean against the passage wall. Harry paid no notice and instead inspected the door. This was his vault? What could be inside?

"Your vault, sir," Griphook said, giving a little bow.

"Thank you, Griphook," Harry said, "and please, call me Harry."

Griphook blinked in surprise, but Harry noticed the ghost of a grin before he bowed respectively.

As Griphook unlocked the door, Harry noticed Hagrid's curious expression, but he paid him no mind. Asena had always taught Harry that all magical creatures deserved more respect than humans gave them.

Griphook opened the door, which let out a lot of green smoke, indicating it hadn't been opened in a while, maybe Harry had worried about Dumbledore for nothing. As it cleared, Harry gasped. The vault was packed with coins of gold, silver, and bronze; all packed in tightly. Louve gave a low, quiet howl, almost a whistle that showed how impressed she was.

"All yours," Hagrid said with a smile. He handed Harry a little blue pack with a drawstring and helped him pile money into it. "The gold ones are Galleons," he explained, "Seventeen silver Sickles to a Galleon and twenty-nine bronze Knuts to a Sickle; it's easy enough ter remember. Right, that should be enough fer awhile." They exited the vault, which closed behind them. Hagrid turned to Griphook. "Vault 713 now, please, and could we go a little more slowly?"

"One speed only," said Griphook.

The ride to Vault 713 led them deeper underground where they picked up speed. The air got colder and they were passing over deep ravines, which Harry tried to get a look at, but Hagrid had none of that and told him to stop.

They reached Vault 713 and climbed out of the cart. The door had no keyhole. Louve walked over to it and sniffed the door curiously.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," Griphook warned. He stroked the door with one long finger and the door melted away. Louve jumped back in surprise and Harry laughed at her.

"_Do as he says,"_ he said to her, _"he knows what he's talking about."_

Griphook looked at Harry with new found respect when he heard the wolf-speech. Noticing Harry's curious inspection of the door, he spoke. "It anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there."

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked.

"About once every ten years," he said with an evil grin. Harry smirked at that.

Hagrid went to the open vault and Harry peeked over to try and see what was so that had to be so heavily guarded. But all he saw was a little grubby package in brown paper. Hagrid snatched it up and put it in his pocket.

"Come on," Hagrid said reluctantly, "back in this infernal cart. An' no talking, it's best if I keep me mouth shut."

The ride back was very quick, and Harry was sure to politely bid Griphook goodbye as they left Hogwarts. He was pleased to hear the goblin return it, though he insisted on calling Harry "Mr. Potter", but it was better than nothing.

When they reached the lobby, Professor Snape was nowhere to be found. Harry seemed curious, but Hagrid just shrugged it off and led Harry over to Madam Malkin's Robes for All-Occasions. "Let's get yer uniform first. Yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up at the Leaky Cauldron – that's a pub – I really don't like those Gringotts carts." He looked quite sick, so Harry nodded, and entered the shop nervously, Louve trailing behind him.

A squat witch dressed all in mauve came over with a smile, which faded when she saw the wolf. "I'm sorry dear," she said, "but there are no animals allowed in here."

Harry frowned and stepped closer to Louve, who lowered her ears and let out a little growl. The witch looked a little afraid. "She won't leave my side," Harry said.

The witch bit her lip. "Alright," she said, "but keep her under control, I don't want my wares damaged."

Harry frowned again, but chose not to reply. Instead he said, "I'm here for school robes."

"Ah, Hogwarts dear?" she asked, becoming friendly again. He nodded. "Got a lot of those now – got another young man being fitted right now."

Harry looked where she gestured and saw a boy in the back of the shop with white blonde hair and a pale pointed face standing on a footstool while another witch pinned up his long black robes. The first witch, Madam Malkin Harry realized, motioned for Harry to stand on a stool next to him and slipped a long black robe over his head and started pinning it. Louve sat on the ground next to him and watched.

"Hello," the boy said, "Hogwarts too?"

"Yes."

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said the boy, in a drawling voice. "Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow."

Harry decided right then that he didn't like that boy.

"Have you got your own broom?"

"No."

"Play Quidditch at all?"

Harry sighed. "No." This was getting irritating.

"I do – Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?"

"No."

"Well, no one really does until they get there, do they? But I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been – imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?"

"I don't think so," Harry said coldly, "a house that values loyalty sounds fine to me."

The boy looked at him in surprise. Then he noticed Louve.

"What's with the dog?"

Both Louve and Harry growled at him, causing the boy to jerk back in horror and surprise. "She's a _wolf_," Harry said through gritted teeth, "and my friend."'

Louve grinned at him, but the boy just turned away and looked out the window where something caught his attention.

"I say, look at that man!" He nodded to the window and Harry saw Hagrid standing there with a grin, holding two ice creams.

"That's Hagrid," Harry said, "He works at Hogwarts."

"Oh, I've heard of him, he's sort of a servant, isn't he?"

"Gamekeeper." This boy was really getting on his nerves.

"Yes, exactly. I hear he's sort of _savage_ – lives in a hut and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic and winds up setting something on fire."

"I think he's great," Harry said defensively.

"Do you?" the boy said with a sneer, "Why is he with you? Where are your parents?"

"Dead."

"Oh, sorry," he didn't sound convincing, "but they were our kind, weren't they?"

"They were a witch and wizard if that's what you mean."

"They really shouldn't let in the other sort in, I think. They're not the same, they've never been taught our ways and some have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get their letters. I think they should keep it in the old pureblood families, don't you? What's your surname anyway?"

Harry chose not to answer, and thankfully, Madam Malkin finished at that moment. He paid for his robes and left, not responding when the boy said, "I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose."

Harry and Louve met up with Hagrid outside and saw that this time Snape had rejoined them. Hagrid gave Harry one of the ice creams, mentioning that he ran into Snape at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry stayed quiet and only ate the ice cream sparingly, not particularly caring for the sweet taste. In the end, he let Louve finish it off, who had been sniffing at it in an interested fashion.

Afterwards they continued their shopping. They bought parchment and ink at one store, and all his school books at a place called Flourish and Blotts. Harry found himself eagerly browsing the book store, disappointed that Hagrid had advised against some of the more advanced books, but he indulged himself and got a few that seemed to be History related and he was glad that he was getting more things with which to practice reading. To his amusement and annoyance, neither store had been pleased with Louve's presence, but she refused to leave his side.

They picked up a cauldron, set of scales and telescope at another store, then entered an Apothecary, where Snape finally participated and started bartering over basic potions supplies. Harry and Louve spent the time observing everything and after they left, she was complaining about never getting the smell out of her nose.

"Just got yer wand left," Hagrid said as they left, "oh yeah, yeh just turned eleven, I haven't got yeh a birthday present yet."

Harry looked up at him in surprise. "That really isn't necessary," he said.

Snape seemed irritated. "We really don't have time for browsing anyway," he said.

"It'll only take a moment," Hagrid said, waving the protest off, "An' what's the matter, Harry? Haven't yeh ever gotten a birthday gift before?"

"No, not really."

It was Hagrid's turn to look surprised. "No? Didn' that she-wolf ever give yeh anything?"

"Hagrid," Harry said pointedly, "we lived in a _Forest_; there wasn't much in the way of presents there."

"Well, all the more reason to get yeh one. Tell yeh what, how about an animal. I know yeh've got this wolf here, but another wouldn't hurt yeh. Let's see…I know! I'll get yeh an owl. They're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everything." Harry heard Snape sigh in resignation.

In Eyelops Owl Emporium, which was dark and full of rustling and flickering, jewel-like eyes, Hagrid let Harry go and pick his owl. This time Louve wouldn't go with him and sat near the door, since the birds began to panic at the presence of a predator in their midst. He wandered the store, getting a look at all the owls in their cages, when a splash of white stood from all the dark feathers. He went over and found himself looking at a beautiful female Snowy owl, who blinked at him.

"_You're beautiful,"_ he said, having caught onto their speech in the ten minutes he'd been there.

The owl looked surprised, but ruffled her feathers proudly. _"Thank you,"_ she said, _"Are you here to purchase one of us?"_ He nodded. _"Oh, please take me!" _she begged, flapping her wings, _"I can't stand it in this place!"_

"_I was kind of planning on it anyway,"_ Harry admitted, _"But I hope you don't mind wolves."_

"_Wolves?"_ There was a hint of fear in her voice.

Harry laughed. _"Don't worry, there's only one,"_ he assured her, _"and she's a good friend of mine."_

"_Well,"_ the owl said, _"I do want to leave, so I think I can make do."_

"_Alright then."_

And so a few minutes later, Harry left the store, carrying the Snowy Owl in her cage, noticing with amusement how she and Louve stared at each other. Harry thanked Hagrid greatly for the gift, but he just waved it off.

"Don' mention it," he said, "Now let's get yer wand. To Ollivanders, only place fer a wand, Ollivanders, and yeh got to have the best wand."

Snape muttered, "Finally," and led the way.

Now this was what Harry was looking forward too. The wand shop was in a dark corner and was narrow and shabby. Gold letters over the door read _'Ollivanders: Makers of fine wands since 382 B.C.'_ Harry raised his eyebrows at that, and then noticed the single wand lying on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

The shop was empty save for a small chair that Hagrid took. Snape chose to lean against one wall, his arms folded across his chest. Harry heard a faint bell chime when they entered. The air was thick with dust and felt strangely stifling and both Harry and Louve felt the hair on the back of their necks rise. The owl just blinked silently.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Everyone but Snape jumped. Harry's eyes narrowed when an old, thin man with pure white hair and silvery eyes came into view. Someone raised by wolves wasn't so easily startled, Harry thought. There was something unusual about this man.

"Hello," Harry said tensely, still unhappy about being snuck up on.

"Ah, yes," the man said, "I thought I'd be seeing you soon, Harry Potter." Harry blinked; this man was the first to recognize him. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

Mr. Ollivander came closer, but stopped when Louve growled softly. He only glanced at her before turning his attention back to Harry.

"Your father on the other hand, favored a mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it – it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

His gaze flicked upward. "And that's where…" He reached out to touch his scar and this time Harry growled too, but Ollivander didn't seem to notice.

"I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," his said softly, "Thirteen and a half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands…well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do…"

He trailed off, then to Harry's relief, spotted Hagrid. He and the gamekeeper exchanged a few words, and Harry learned that Hagrid had been expelled; he decided to ask about it later. Ollivander tried to talk to Snape, but gave up rather quickly when the man sent him his signature dark look. Then Ollivander got to business. He asked Harry to hold out his arm and began to take measurements, all the while mentioning how the cores were a powerful magical substance, like the hairs, feathers or other part of some animal. He said no two wands were the same and that you'll never get such good results with another person's wand. Harry couldn't help but smirk at that; he'd already proven that wrong.

Suddenly the measuring was over and Ollivander was piling several thin boxes on the counter in the front.

"Alright then, Mr. Potter, try this one," he thrust a wand into his hand, "Beachwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible, just give it a wave."

He'd barely moved it an inch before was snatched out his hand and another put in its place.

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try –"

That too was taken back in a second.

"No, no – here. Ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out."

Harry tried, and tried. But nothing seemed to happen. He was beginning to get irritated when Ollivander stopped, a strange look on his face.

"I wonder – yes, why not – it would seem fitting. Here, try this one," he took a thin box from a shelf in the back and held out the wand, "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry took the wand, and suddenly a warmth filled his fingers. He waved it and a shower of red and gold sparks shot from the end. Hagrid whooped and clapped, Snape smirked, Louve yipped, the owl screeched and Ollivander clapped his hands together.

"Oh yes, I know we'd find one eventually. But, curious…how very curious…"

He wrapped the wand; muttering and Harry had to ask. "What's curious?"

Ollivander looked at him suddenly. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter, every single one. It just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather – just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother, why its brother gave you that scar."

Harry looked at the wand, feeling apprehensive. He didn't like the thought of being "destined" for a wand that shared a core with Voldemort's. He cast his eyes around the shop, trying to get away from Ollivander's silver stare, and his eyes landed on a light-colored wand on a dark cushion sitting in the dark corner. Curiosity got the better of him and he made his way over to it. Ollivander noticed and watched him closely.

Snape noticed too. "What is that?" he asked.

"That," Ollivander said, almost hesitantly, "is a wand with an experimental core. I've been trying new combinations lately."

Harry reached his hand out and – hearing no protests – picked it up. He was surprised to feel a warmth greater than that of the other wand; it almost felt alive in his hand. Picking it up, it emitted deep purple and green sparks. He heard Hagrid gasp.

"Well, this is a surprise. Never before has anyone been destined for two wands," Ollivander said, coming over, "Ashwood, nine inches. With a hollow core filled with ground Chimera scales and Ashwinder blood." Harry looked up in a surprise. "A wand with much potential; it'll wield an almost _wild_ magic. Rather fitting, I think, considering your background." Was there no end to the surprises here? This wand maker was very perceptive, Harry decided, clearly someone to be wary of in the past.

"How much?" Harry asked; eager to leave.

Ollivander thought a moment. "Seven Galleons for the Holly. The Ash though, that one's a gift." Harry began to protest, but the wandmaker waved it off. "The wand chooses the wizard, remember? I expect to see great things from you, Mr. Potter."

Harry paid, and they left. Hagrid was about to say something as they exited, but Harry cut them off.

"Hagrid, Professor, _please_ don't mention the other wand to anybody," he begged. Snape's expression remained blank, but Hagrid frowned. "_Please_, not even to Dumbledore."

Snape's raised his eyebrows. "Any reason why not?" he asked.

"I don' know, Harry," Hagrid said, "It seems awful important."

"_Please_, don't tell anyone. I promise, I won't even use it."

That seemed to convince Hagrid. "Alrigh' Harry, I won't tell. Jes don' use it."

"I won't."

"Alright."

Harry sighed; he'd won Hagrid over, but Snape still didn't seem convinced, though Harry had an idea the man wouldn't say anything. It was clear by the man's expression though, that he'd have to explain things later. As far as his promise to use the other wand, well, that had been a lie. There was no way he could resist using such a powerful wand.

Hagrid's stomach suddenly growled, breaking the tension.

"Oh, well, look at tha', seems it's lunchtime!" he said cheerfully, "Yeh hungry, Harry?"

He was. So Snape had to put up with one more trip and Hagrid brought them to the top of Diagon Alley, tapping a blank wall with an umbrella, and opening it. His mind elsewhere, Harry didn't really notice, until he found himself in a tiny, grubby looking place.

"This is the Leaky Cauldron," Hagrid said, "See that door over there? That's the entrance from the muggle world. 'Course the muggles can' see it, though there's a lot they don' notice."

The pub was slightly crowded with people eating, drinking, smoking, and talking; though the chatter stopped when they entered. A toothless and bald bartender smiled and greeted them.

"Hello, Hagrid. The usual?"

"Not today, Tom," Hagrid said, "On official Hogwarts business. Jes finished shopping and came in fer lunch." He patted Harry's shoulder.

"Well of course, Hagrid," said Tom, "what'll you have?"

"Same as usual."

"And for the boy?" he asked, clearly asking for a name.

"Harry," he said. He didn't get a chance to ask for food because the bartender suddenly gasped.

"Good Lord, are you…"

The Leaky Cauldron suddenly went silent, save for the quiet frustrated sigh from Professor Snape. Harry really didn't like all the staring.

"Bless my soul," Tom whispered, "Harry Potter…what an honor." There was almost a collective gasp, and Harry stiffened.

The bartender rushed over, reaching for his hand. Before he could reach him, Louve gave a low growl. Tom stopped suddenly and Harry felt a need to apologize. "Sorry," he said, "she doesn't like strangers." He hoped Tom got the implication that he didn't either. A few other people looked like they had wanted to approach him, but wisely chose not too.

Hagrid broke the silence and ordered hamburgers for himself and Harry (Snape said he wasn't hungry), and the bartender went back to his counter. They ate in near silence at a table by themselves while Harry pondered over all he'd seen that day. Their peace was only broken once when a stuttering, pale man in a purple turban greeted Hagrid; who introduced him as Professor Quirrell, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Professor Quirrell only stayed briefly before hurrying away and Hagrid told him something about the man having a run-in with vampires. Harry couldn't help but notice that Quirrell seemed especially nervous around Snape, who was looking at the man in a strange way.

They finished their meal, and Professor Snape dragged them outside, appearing very eager to leave. Harry didn't blame him. Once outside, Snape activated a portkey, returning them to Hogwarts.

* * *

The rest of the week proceeding September 1st passed quickly. As promised, no mention of the extra wand was made, much to Harry's relief. Almost everything else was reported to Dumbledore though, who told Harry that the welcome he received in the Leaky Cauldron would be the norm; he should expect it when the students arrive.

His lessons continued, and he made real progress with reading and writing, though he still relied on the two spells to a certain degree. He still spent his free time exploring both the castle and outside and talking to Hagrid. Once while exploring, he discovered the kitchens, and saw to what extent the house elves worked to prepare their food, and he found himself annoyed the same way he'd been annoyed when he saw the goblins at Gringotts.

Every evening he stayed up late, reading his books. He was surprised at how interesting they were. He fond himself absorbing a lot of information, and found himself looking forward to the school library opening up at the start of term; though part of his mind kept reminding himself that he was only staying as long as necessary and would probably find a way out within a week of classes starting or so.

His snowy owl, Hedwig (so named after a name he found in his History of Magic book) made herself comfortable, and told him she preferred his cozy room to the crowded and dirty Owlery. So she designated one potted plant with strong limbs as her perch.

In his reading, Harry was appalled to hear about all the past wars in his History book. Goblin Rebellions? Were they serious? He couldn't believe the gall of these people, the way they treated all those creatures like they were their masters. One evening he started talking to Louve and Hedwig about what he'd read.

"_Can you believe these people?"_ he said, _"I mean, Asena's told me what little regard these people have for most magical creatures, but I didn't realize they went this far!"_

"_What do you mean, Harry?" _Louve asked from her rug on the floor.

Harry sat up from here he'd been lounging on his bed, reading. _"Well, for one thing, there are all these ridiculous laws they have,"_ he said, picking up one of the history books he'd gotten at Flourish and Blotts, _"'No non-human magical creature may posses a wand', let's see, what else…they require werewolves to register themselves, but they don't let them hold certain jobs or have a certain amount of money – they say it's dangerous or something. And here," _he picked up another book that was about magical creatures, _"they classify creatures according to how 'dangerous' they are, and here,"_ he flipped a page, _"this bird-like creature they call a Snidget, they used as a __**toy**__ and now it's nearly extinct!"_

By now he was standing and pacing his room in his anger. Louve and Hedwig watched him with interest.

"_So what are you saying, Harry?"_ Louve asked.

He stopped and sighed. _"I'm not sure,"_ he growled, _"but all this just makes me so __**angry**__, I want to do something about it."_

"_And what exactly do you intend to do?"_ she asked.

"_I'm not sure,"_ he admitted, _"but it's about time for things to change."_

* * *

**Ooo...ominous. Please Review!**

**_Ok, here's what I forgot to post last time. It's a little silly, but I've been wanting to do this for a bit._**

**The next chapter is going to feature the the Sorting Ceremony, and I'm holding a brief contest. I want everyone to try and guess what House Harry will end up it. There's only four possibilities...or is there? _Evil cackle_**

**The first person to give me the correct answer gets this: a character of their choice from the HP universe (who would believably be at the school at that time) can go up to Harry during the Feast and say, pretty much whatever they want to him. (Just keep it clean ppl, it is rated T).**

**I want people to be creative, make up something really funny. If I like what I see, I may keep some of them and use them later in the story.**

**When you submit your answer, just tell me the House, followed by the character(s) and then, in quotes, what they say. I will have Harry respond in a way I see fit. Have fun!**

* * *


	8. Chapter 7

**A/n: Hey everyone, I'm back! Sorry about taking so long to update, I've been busy trying to get everything in place as I'm moving within the next 6 weeks or so. (And into my first apartment too, can anyone say 'scary'?)**

**Wow…only five people guessed, but I'm glad to say that we have a winner! For those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about, in the previous chapter, I held a quiz and wanted everyone to guess what House Harry ended up in. The prize was a character in the chapter saying whatever they wanted to or about Harry. The prize in the chapter will be underlined so that no one misses it.  
**

**I hope everyone enjoys this chapter and keep in mind, everything is here for a reason, so pay attention to detail. **

**SPECIAL MESSAGE FOR THE WINNER AT THE BOTTOM**

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Harry woke up September 1st feeling vaguely ill from his apprehension. Louve and Hedwig tried to calm him, but to no avail. He was really dreading the Welcoming Feast; enduring all the stares at the Leaky Cauldron had left him feeling claustrophobic, and now he had to endure more? From people he wouldn't be able to get away from…at least not until he could find a way to escape, but that plan was looking grim and it seemed he'd have to wait a while. He tried to swallow his fear, but unfortunately, the day flew by far too quickly.

By 6 o'clock that evening, Harry was sitting in an armchair in a small room off the Entrance Hall, waiting for the other first years to arrive. He was dressed in the schools uniform: black slacks, dress shoes, and a black v-neck sweater over a shirt and tie. A plain black robe was thrown over it. The colors of his sweater and tie would change after he was sorted, and an emblem would be added to his robe. His shoulder length black hair hung about his face as he leaned back, one hand rubbing his temple. He crossed his legs, frowning. He hated waiting.

Louve looked up from the floor where she was sitting. This would be a trying night for both of them. Harry would have to endure the stress and whispers of hundreds of kids, who would all be too curious to leave him alone. They would question everything, his life, his skills, his behavior, his companion…he just hoped he could keep himself from growling at anybody; Dumbledore hadn't been pleased to hear of his growling at Diagon Alley (though Harry hadn't really cared about his opinion, but he was trying to appear like it).

His musings were broken when he heard footsteps. He looked up and paled at the sound of hundreds of students making their way to the Great Hall.

Louve whimpered quietly. _"That sounds like a lot of people,"_ she said.

"_No kidding,"_ he agreed. She heard the fear in his voice and smelled it on him. Rearing, she nudged his arm with her head, trying to make him feel better. He sighed and rubbed her ears in thanks.

The noise subsided, though he could still hear far off voices from the Hall. Now he just had to wait for the first years, who were taking a boat trip across the lake; something Harry only slightly envied.

Thirty minutes later, Harry heard many footsteps again and suddenly he knew this was it. Deciding not to stand, he settled back into his chair, one hand unconsciously going to Louve for support. The door opened and about three dozen first years in similar uniforms crowded in with Professor McGonagall following. They all stopped to stare at him, some looking ready to ask about him. He only looked back silently.

Before anything could be said, Professor McGonagall gave the same speech Dumbledore did when he arrived. She told them about the Houses and Harry heard something new; points. Though he felt he really didn't care about some stupid cup. Once she finished her speech, Professor McGonagall suggested they smarten themselves up before while they were waiting and she left.

Harry discreetly observed the group, noticing one student with brown hair who had fastened his robe incorrectly and reeked of fear, another, who was female with bushy brown hair who had started chatting away in a manner than strongly reminded him of a squirrel. He caught the nervous brown haired boy asking a redhead what the sorting involved and he listened with interest; that was something he didn't know either. The redhead thought it involved some test, and mentioned someone told him it hurt, but that he doubted it. Harry rolled his eyes and looked away again; let them test him, he was sure any test they could come up with would be a breeze.

He noticed some of the students looking at him closely and braced himself for the inevitable questions that were sure to come. But the students didn't really get the chance, for they were suddenly visited by the Hogwarts ghosts. Several people screamed and gasped, and Harry couldn't help but let out a little laugh. The twenty some odd ghosts who had just streamed through the back wall and seemed to be arguing.

"Forgive and forget, I say," a fat little monk said, "we ought to give him a second chance –"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?" A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered, and some of the ghosts started asking what Houses the students thought they'd get in and the Friar started advertising for his own House. The ghost who'd noticed the students floated over and noticed Harry.

"Well, hello there, Harry," he said. The ghost's name was Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, but due to his failed, near-decapitation, he was more commonly known as Nearly Headless Nick. Harry had run into him whilst exploring the castle and found the ghost pleasant company and nice to talk too.

"Hello, Nick," Harry said, lifting up his head, brushing some hair out of his face and giving a small smile. "What're you all arguing about?"

The ghost sighed. "Some of the ghosts think we should let Peeves into the Great Hall for the Feast; we all attend it, or most of us do, despite the fact we don't eat anything, it's just tradition, you understand." Harry nodded, inviting him to continue. "Well, I'm against Peeves joining us, the last time he attended a Welcoming Feast he started throwing food at the students; some of the first years were terrified, naturally. That was about a century ago, and he's been banned ever since. You haven't met Peeves yet, have you Harry?"

Harry shook his head. "No," he said, "thankfully I've yet to make his acquaintance."

Nearly Headless Nick laughed and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder; it felt like he'd plunged it into the river just after the first spring's thaw. "Get used to that while you can, Harry," he said, "Peeves has a particular liking for first years; he'll get to you sooner or later."

Nick then chose that moment to leave, and it was only afterwards that Harry realized the conversation had gotten the attention of the students nearby. Unfortunately, one of those was the pale, blonde boy Harry had met in Madame Malkin's shop. The boy was looking at him with far more interest now.

"So it's true," he said, walking over to Harry while the whole room stopped talking to watch, "they Boy-Who-Lived really is starting this year. That's you, isn't it? You're Harry Potter!"

Harry bit down an annoyed sigh and looked at him. "Yeah," he said, "and who are you?"

"Oh, I'm Draco Malfoy," he said, looking proud, though Harry wasn't sure why, "and this is Crabbe and Goyle," he added, gesturing to two large boys who stood near him.

Harry heard someone let out a slight cough, and Malfoy turned around to glare at the redhead.

"Think my name's funny, do you?" he sneered, "No need to ask who you are. You're a Weasley. My father told me all Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Weasley's face turned red and he looked ready to pick a fight, but Malfoy paid him no more attention and turned back to Harry.

"You'll find out that some Wizarding families are better than others. I can help you there," he said, holding out his hand like he wanted to shake Harry's.

Neither Harry nor Louve forgot Malfoy's comment when he called Louve a pet, so when they saw this, it only made them madder.

Harry looked at Malfoy's hand, and then looked at his face, his eyes flinty. "I could care less about what sort of standards you _people_ use," he growled, "you're all the same to me."

Malfoy looked ready to protest, but before he could, both Harry and Louve growled at him in such a way that none of the students present could tell which one sounded more wolfish. Harry couldn't help but smirk when everyone looked at him with fear.

The tense moment was broken when Professor McGonagall entered the room again.

"Move along now," she said in a sharp voice, "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start. Now, form a line, and follow me."

Harry sighed and stood, and noticed that his legs felt a little heavy; he guessed he was still a tad nervous, since the group he was with only represented one-seventh of the student population. He did feel a little accomplished over the impression he'd made though, and wondered if it would be enough to make everyone leave him alone. The students formed a line and he noticed with some amusement that no one wanted to stand near him, and so he found himself at the end of the line with Louve trailing alongside him.

Once they were all in order, Professor McGonagall led them out of the room, across the hall, and through the double doors into the Great Hall. Harry couldn't help but be impressed with the atmosphere that had been created; for the Hall had been dull the past two weeks when compared to this. Thousands and thousands of candles were floating in midair over the four long House tables, which were now filled with students. Harry and Louve almost whimpered when they realized how many people were here. The tables were laden with glittering gold plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another table where all the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led them towards the top of the hall, where they waited; facing the teachers and Harry tried not to frown as he felt the staring eyes of all the students at his back. He was comforted by the cool weight of his knife against his leg underneath his robe; thankfully Dumbledore had returned it the other day, but only after Harry had promised not to draw it against any students. He'd agreed, saying that he just felt unsafe without it.

Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years, and placed a patched, frayed, and very dirty pointed wizard's had on top of it. Everyone in the hall watched it with interest, and Harry found his curiosity piqued. To his surprise, the hat twitched, then began to sing about the Hogwarts founders and their Houses and the traits each valued. Harry rolled his eyes; that was it? They had to put on a hat? What kind of a test was that? Louve looked up at him curiously, and he quietly told her what the hat said, and she too, showed her irritation by lowering her ears slightly.

Professor McGonagall then stepped forward, carrying a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbot, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with pigtails stumbled forward and put on the hat, which placed her in Hufflepuff after a brief moment's pause. A table to the left erupted into applause and she went to sit down next to the Fat Friar. The rest of the Sorting progressed in this manner; sometimes the hat took a while to decide, as with Neville Longbottom, who forgot to return the hat at first; and sometimes it chose right away. The hat had barely touched Malfoy's head before it declared him a Slytherin. Harry narrowed his eyes at the way he swaggered over to his table; in wolf packs, such over-confidence in young wolves was squashed immediately, usually in some sort of fight, and Harry felt an overwhelming desire to show his dominance and put the blonde in his place.

Then the moment he was dreading arrived.

"Potter, Harry!"

Suppressing a growl, Harry and Louve made their way forward past the few students who were left, trying to ignore the whispers that broke out. He and Louve reached the stool and he was aware of people asking about the wolf; she just sat on the ground and started panting, her tongue lolling; Harry knew that expression meant she was laughing. The last thing he saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a look at him. Next thing he saw was the black inside of the hat.

"Hmm," said a small voice in his ear, "Difficult. Very difficult. You've got plenty of courage; you're very bright for your age as well. Quite a bit of talent as well, and a very strong sense of loyalty. And a nice thirst to prove yourself, that's interesting. Now…where shall I put you?"

Harry took a deep breath. _Let's just get this over with,_ he thought, briefly hoping he wouldn't end up in Slytherin with that irritating Malfoy child.

"Not Slytherin, eh?" said the small voice, "Are you sure? You could be great you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that."

_I could care less about where you put me; I'm staying that long anyway._

"Yes, I can see you plan on leaving at your earliest convenience, but you may find you'll change your mind about that."

_I highly doubt that._

"Well, I can see you're impatient, so let's finish this. Hmm…I think I know the perfect place for your wolfish personality – better be HUFFLEPUFF!"

This last bit was shouted to the entire hall and he gratefully took off the hat. He stood hesitantly and he and Louve made their way towards the table that had had a look of disbelief before erupting into applause. He sat down at the end of the table nearest the High table and Louve sat down on the ground beside him. He glanced up at the Professors and he was interested to see a relieved look on Dumbledore's face. _Where did he think I was going to go? And why does he care?_

Now there were only a few more people left to be sorted. "Thomas, Dean" went to Gryffindor, and was followed there by "Weasley, Ron" a little while later. Harry frowned at the redhead, he'd been rather irritating as well, but not as much as the Malfoy boy had been. He was distracted when his House received another student – "Winters, David", a tannish looking boy with brownish-blonde hair and blue eyes who for some reason decided to sit next to Harry. David sent Harry a broad smile, but Harry just turned away to watch as the last student, "Zabini, Blaise," became a Slytherin.

Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away and it was only then that Harry realized he was feeling a little hungry. He hadn't eaten a midday meal, his nervousness had made him lose is appetite. He wondered when the house elves would be sending up the food.

Albus Dumbledore stood, beaming; his arms opened wide as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there. Harry suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

"Welcome!" he said, "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

He sat back down and everyone clapped and cheered. Harry raised his eyebrows in disbelief. What had been the point of that? To make everyone think he was senile or something? Louve's questioning look prompted him to tell her what he said, and he wasn't surprised when she snorted, sending the High Table a strange look.

The smell of food suddenly assaulted their noses and Harry glanced down at the table, seeing that all the golden plates were now piled with food. He wrinkled his nose in distaste; but now he knew the obvious waste of food was because the elves tended to overdo it, it was just what they did.

While the other students piled on tons of food that most of them probably wouldn't finish, Harry carefully selected what he needed, mostly picking types of meat (taking care to grab from the center where the meat would be redder) and some kinds of vegetables. The pumpkin juice most of the students seemed to favor was too sweet for his taste, but luckily there was a pitcher of water nearby. Louve's slight nudge got his attention, and he grinned at her and piled his unused side plate with some chicken and placed it on the ground at her feet; ignoring the slightly disapproving look some of the teachers had.

He was aware of the staring as he ate, and realized his table manners must look horrendous, but he felt he'd made quite a bit of progress in the past two weeks. At least he wasn't eating as though he hadn't in days, he was just a little messier than most. When everyone had eaten all they needed too, the food disappeared and a moment later, the desserts appeared. Harry frowned, not more sweets! He glanced around and was relieved to see some fruit, which he helped himself too. Louve reared slightly to get a look at the table to see if there was anything interesting. Harry just smirked at her and pushed her off; she faked a growl and thumped her tail against his leg.

Conversation near him quieted and he found himself the center of attention at his part of the table.

"So, you're Harry Potter," one boy said, leaning forward to get a good look at him.

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Yes…" he said.

"I'm Ernie Macmillan," he said, his expression a little haughty, "what's with the dog, anyway?"

Harry frowned. "_Wolf_," he growled slightly, "and her name is Louve."

"Oh, whatever," Ernie said, waving it off, causing Harry to frown, "why is it here, anyway?"

"_She_ is here because _she_ is my friend," he said angrily.

"Yeah, but –"

"Oh, leave him alone, Ernie," said a girl with long brown hair tied into a braid, "the Professors obviously don't mind." She then turned to Harry and introduced herself. "I'm Susan Bones, by the way." Her smile was inviting, but he didn't really feel like making friends, so he just nodded.

"And I'm David," the blonde boy next to him said with a smile.

"Hi…" Harry said hesitantly. That smile was kind of irritating, so he looked away and found his gaze land on Professors Quirrell and Snape, who were deep in conversation. He noticed that Quirrell looked rather nervous, but this came as no surprise to him, Snape had an intimidating presence. As he was watching, Snape glanced past Quirrell's turban and met his eyes – and a sharp, hot pain shot across the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Ah!" Harry cried, clapping a hand to his head.

"What happened?" David asked, looking both concerned and startled. Harry just shook his head and chose not to answer. Louve sent him a questioning look though, and he just waved her off, intending to tell her later. Nothing else interesting occurred that night; unless you count the blonde seventh year Hufflepuff who succeeded in spelling some juice into alcohol, got drunk, and started going on about wanting to wear a loincloth or something. Harry had just rolled his eyes and gone back to thinking about his scar and wondering what had caused it to hurt.

He didn't get long to ponder on what happened when the desserts disappeared and Professor Dumbledore stood again; causing the entire hall to fall silent.

"Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Harry frowned and rolled his eyes.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year; the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

A few people laughed, but Harry was not one of them; he just raised his eyebrows, wondering was in that corridor that could be so dangerous.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore.

Harry looked around in disbelief, was he serious? Apparently some of other teachers seemed to be thinking the same thing if their expressions were anything to go by. When Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, causing golden words to appear above the tables and led everyone in the song – to which everyone sang a different tune – Harry chose not to participate, though Louve decided to add a few loud howls just for the hell of it. He rolled his eyes at her and she just sent him a silly grin.

Finally it was over and the Headmaster dismissed them. At once, everyone in the hall stood and Harry tried not to get shoved around too much while he and Louve followed the rest of their house out of the Great Hall and down one of the small stairs beneath the marble staircase. They were led down a low hallway towards the back of the school and Harry noticed they were near the kitchens. After several minutes, the prefect leading them stopped in front of a portrait of a lake-filled landscape.

The portrait stirred slightly and the figure of a woman rose from the lake, clad in white.

"_Password?"_ she asked, her voice sounding far off and strange to Harry's ears.

"Excalibur," the prefect said. The woman nodded and the portrait swung forward on invisible hinges, revealing an entryway in the stone wall. They went through it and found themselves in a slightly round room done in a mixture of warm and cool colors that were easy on the eyes. There was a small fireplace and numerous tables and chairs, armchairs and a few couches placed around the room. Glancing around, Harry spotted a portrait in one back corner, practically underneath one of the staircases that showed the same view of the lake the entrance did.

The prefect gave a short speech, telling them that they would get their class schedules the next day at breakfast and laid down a few rules about curfew and advised them on the easiest way to earn points and how to avoid losing them. Harry didn't really pay much attention, and then the prefect directed the girls towards the left staircase, and the boys towards the right. Harry was left in the common room alone with the prefect, who hesitated when he saw him.

"Ah," he said, "I was told your room was separate, and that all you had to do was go to that portrait back there." Harry didn't reply. "Um, goodnight then." And he left.

Harry glanced at Louve, who just blinked at him, and then he went over to the portrait. When nothing happened, he touched it, remembering that his room was keyed into his signature. The portrait stirred, and the same white-clad woman rose from the lake and looked at him. This time Harry was closer, and saw that her flowing blonde hair had a greenish-tint to it, and her eyes were the deepest blue he'd ever seen. She gazed at him for a moment before speaking.

"_You are the master of this room?"_ she asked.

Harry nodded. "I'm Harry Potter," he added.

She nodded. _"I am the Lady of the Lake," _she said, _"I guard the entrance to this House, and it was decided that your room could use added protection."_

Harry didn't have to ask who decided that. "Protection, or observation?" he asked.

She gave him a mysterious smile. _"That's up to you,"_ she said cryptically. He raised an eyebrow at that, and she changed the subject. _"You must be tired,"_ the Lady observed, _"if you wish, you may add a verbal password for added security; sometimes signatures can be copied."_

"Whatever I want?"

"_Whatever you want."_

Harry thought for a moment, and then came up with something, but he wondered if it would work.

"_Regius Lupus,"_ he said in wolfspeech. He was aware of Louve's questioning look, but he paid her no mind; his attention was focused on the Lady.

She blinked, then nodded. _"Very well,"_ she said, _"Your password shall be 'Regius Lupus'."_ The password was repeated in the same language it had been spoken, though Harry wasn't sure if that was because the woman could understand what he said, or due to some recording spell placed on her portrait. Either way, he didn't care, besides Louve, he was the only one in the castle who could speak that language; hopefully that would prevent unwanted visitors.

"Is that all?" Harry asked, fighting back a yawn. His companion was less restrained and stretched her mouth wide, displaying her rows of sharp teeth.

The Lady smiled. _"Unless there is anything else you wish to add?"_ Harry shook his head. _"Then that is all. Goodnight, Harry Potter."_ She gave him a respectable nod of her head and her portrait swung open, revealing the familiar passageway to his rooms. He and Louve went to the second door, which he opened with his signature, and they entered.

Louve insisted on knowing what had happened that she hadn't noticed, and he briefly filled her in while changing into his sleeping clothes. Hedwig had some questions as well, but Harry found his eyelids heavier than usual and was unable to remain conscious long enough to answer them all. He was asleep almost the very moment his head touched his pillow.

Perhaps it had been the stress of the evening, or the strange food he'd tasted that night, but Harry had a very strange and disturbing dream. He was standing on the shores of the Hogwarts Lake, or at least, he thought it had been the Hogwarts Lake, until the Lady from his portrait rose from it's depths. Harry stared at her for a long moment, and she raised an arm, beckoning him. He took a step forward, feeling the cool grass under his feet. Looking down, he was wearing the same clothes he'd had in his Forest.

Speaking of his Forest, the thick trees behind and around the Lake looked familiar, and he was overjoyed to see the familiar, silvery-white shapes of his family emerging from them; Asena's large head lifted to let out a howl. Soft feet ran past him and Harry saw Louve leaping across the tall grass towards the Mystic Lady and Royal Wolves. For some reason, he hesitated and looked behind him.

Behind him, the grass sloped upwards towards a large hill that was topped with Hogwarts Castle, which was silhouetted by the mid-afternoon sun. Standing in front of the building were several shadowed figures he couldn't make out. One of them came forward slightly and he thought he could vaguely make out long red hair. The figure raised a hand and waved towards him, and he felt the urge to climb the hill towards them. He took a hesitant step up the hill, but a wolf cry made him turn.

"_Harry, come on!"_ Louve said. She'd stopped by the lake's edge, waiting for him. His family and the Lady of the Lake watched him expectantly. He turned and saw the shadowed figures were also waiting. He felt torn for some reason and stood rooted to the spot. Before he could make a decision, the sky darkened as though a storm was approaching. A bolt of lightening suddenly erupted from the thick clouds, landing in the Forest. Moments later, Harry's home was up in flames. He let out a grief-filled cry and was about to run towards his frantic family when a burst of green light came from behind. He turned and saw the shadowed figures lit up by the light briefly before falling to the ground. Before he could comprehend what had happened, his vision faded, and all he could hear was high, cold, cruel laughter.

Harry woke up suddenly, his breath erratic. Wiping the sweat from his face, he realized some of the moisture was his tears. He swallowed the lump in his throat and sat up, running a hand through his hair. He felt very chilly, and a little vulnerable. Looking over at Louve, who slept on her rug, undisturbed by his tossing and turning, he made a split decision and crawled out of bed and spent the rest of the night curled up next to her.

**Oooo….ominous. Hope everyone liked the chapter, and that no one's irritated with the OC. He's a character I created a long time ago for other HP fanfics that never got written, and I liked his character too much to not use. Not to mention, someone had to fill the space left by Ron, since writing him as an ass is way too much fun. :) Don't forget to review!**

**TO THE WINNER: TweetyHope, you were the first person to answer correctly, but as no one outside the few staff members had seen Harry in anything other than normal clothing, there was no real way to insert your idea, though I did manage to use it a little. Hope you liked the chapter otherwise.**

**Xyvortex: You were the runner up in the contest, but funny thing, I already had Harry saying something similar in the chapter already, lol. But don't worry, there will be more confrontations between them before the end. :)**

**Cherri202: I'm glad some people got the right answer, I was thinking pack attributes too. But you didn't request a prize :( . Oh well, hope the chapter was too your liking.**


	9. Chapter 8

**A/n: Hey, sorry about the late update, still working on getting and moving into an apartment, and whoo, boy, I had no idea so much work was involved. Thanks everyone for reviewing, and btw, **_**Fury of the Wolves,**_** I have read Jane Linskold's **_**Through Wolf's Eyes**_** books, I own the entire series. It was those books that inspired this story. Glad to see there's another fan out there. :)**

**Just to let people know, the story is going to closely follow canon from here on in, at least with regards to events at the school. The story's gonna be canon until around the middle of Harry's fourth year actually, so you won't be seeing anything drastically different for a while. (The paragraphs are also similar to the books too, I actually typed mostly from the chapters so I wouldn't miss anything). Hope no one minds that, and don't forget to review.**

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**Chapter 8**

Louve had been surprised to find Harry curled up next to her the next morning, but to his relief, she never asked him about it. A good thing too, because he had no time to dwell on his dream; not when he had classes to attend and his nosey classmates to ignore. Whispers and stares followed him the moment he left his room that morning. People lining up outside classes craned over to get a look at him, or doubled back in the hallways to stare at him. He heard them whisper loudly whenever he passed.

"There, look!"

"Where?"

"Right there!"

"With the black hair?"

"Did you see his face?"

"Did you see his scar?"

"What's with the wolf?"

He endured it as long as he could, but finally a few well-placed growls and glares seemed to dissuade a few of the more curious students. Except for David Winters, the boy who suddenly decided he wanted to be Harry's friend. Even simultaneous growling from him and Louve could not get rid of this kid. The fact that they had the same classes didn't really help matters either. But by the end of his first day, Harry had to admit David's presence had its uses; despite the exploring Harry had done, David seemed to remember where classes were better, he had a knack for reading and understanding the directions, and he told time a lot better than Harry did and ensured they weren't late most of the time.

Getting lost was easier than Harry cared to admit too. There were a hundred and forty-two staircases in the castle, and he hadn't explored even a handful of them yet. Some where wide and sweeping, others were narrow, and rickety. Some decided to change direction different days and times and others had vanishing steps that students had to remember to jump over. The doors were just as confusing; some opened only when you asked politely, or tickled them in the right place, and some doors weren't even doors at all, just walls pretending. It was really irritating and hard to remember, but David seemed to get it pretty quickly, so Harry endured his company.

The ghosts weren't much help, most of the time. It was a big surprise when one of them glided through a door they were trying to open. Their lack of a scent irritated Louve to no end and she tended to growl at them, which just amused most of them. Nearly Headless Nick was always happy to point people in the right direction. Peeves on the other hand…

Harry and David were unfortunate to run into the Poltergeist almost immediately after breakfast their first day. The little, floating man with a wide mouth and evil little eyes had come upon them in a second-floor hallway and started pelting chalk at them. David had covered his head and was about to run away, when Harry snarled at the poltergeist, his patience already thin from the stressful morning. Peeves had been very surprised by this, especially when Louve had joined in. Unfortunately, that had not convinced him to leave them alone, and Harry had to deal with him randomly cropping up in hallways, barking at Harry and Louve like they were dogs, then flying away cackling when they got mad.

Even worse than Peeves, though, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Filch hated all the students, and while Harry had not seen the man at all during his two weeks at the school, the man had already formed an opinion on him based on rumors. It didn't help when Harry and David had been found by the caretaker trying to open a door that turned out to be the entrance to the forbidden corridor on the third floor. He didn't believe they were lost and was threatening to lock them in the dungeons when they were rescued by Professor Quirrell, who was passing by.

Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris, seemed to have the same distaste for rule-breaking the caretaker did. She was scrawny, dust-colored, and had bulging eyes just like her owner. She patrolled the hallways herself, and if she saw anything suspicious, she'd run off for Filch, who'd appear moments later. He knew the secret passageways better than anyone (except the Weasley twins, Fred and George, who Harry heard several stories about) and could pop up as quickly as the ghosts. The students hated him, and his cat, and many wished to give the cat a good kick. Said cat had run into Harry and Louve when they had a rare moment by themselves and something about them made her hiss. Louve had growled slightly at her, but Mrs. Norris was obviously very confident about her connections and so was not intimidated.

Finally, there were the classes themselves. All the preparation Harry had done was barely enough considering the variety of subjects they had to learn. Every Wednesday night, they studied the night skies through their telescopes in Astrology, which Harry found fascinating; who knew all those lights in the sky he and Asena would watch had names and stories? Another class he found himself enjoying was Herbology, which they had three times a week in the greenhouses with Professor Sprout, the head of their House. David enjoyed that class as well, though Louve had been told to wait outside the greenhouse and Harry had had to agree with the teacher; she might've been tempted to dig somewhere.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic. Harry had liked reading his History books and had been looking forward to learning more, but his enthusiasm faded quickly when he saw their teacher. Professor Binns was the only ghost teacher, and had died in front of the staff room fire decades ago. His droning voice put half the class to sleep and many gave up taking notes about five minutes in. Louve took the time to catch a nap, much to Harry's annoyance and he resisted the urge to kick her. Charms class was ok, Harry had already mastered the two charms that helped read and write, so he knew it was something he could do. The teacher was interesting too; Professor Flitwick was the shortest man Harry had ever seen who had to sit on a pile of books to see over his desk. He'd taken roll call first thing and when he'd gotten to Harry's name, he'd let out an excited squeak and toppled out of sight (Louve thought that was very funny).

Transfiguration was impressive, but Harry doubted it was something he would be able to master easily. Most of his class had been a little intimidated by Professor McGonagall, who had given them a stern speech first thing in class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said, "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig and back again. They were all very impressed but soon learned they wouldn't be doing anything that complicated for a very long time. After taking a lot of notes, they were given matches and told to turn them into needles. By the end of class, only one student, a Gryffindor (who they had double classes with) named Hermione Granger had been able to do anything and she was rewarded with a rare smile from the Professor.

David had really been looking forward to Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Harry admitted it seemed interesting, but they were both sorely disappointed. Professor Quirrell's lessons were a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic (which had left Louve sneezing and Harry's eyes watering), everyone said it was to ward off some vampire he'd run into in Romania or something. Quirrell told them that his turban had been a gift from an African prince for getting rid of a zombie, but when asked how he had done it; the man had flushed and changed the subject. For another thing, Louve told Harry that the strongest source of the strange smell came from the purple turban and when Harry told David this, he had said it was probably stuffed with garlic too, to keep him safe everywhere he went.

By Friday morning, Harry and Louve had gotten used to the swing of things and they'd even gotten used to David's presence as well. They made their way to breakfast that morning without any trouble and Harry was pleased to see that he barely had to growl at all to make others leave him alone.

"So what class do we have this morning?" Harry asked David as he grabbed himself some sausage; making sure to set some down for Louve.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," said David, "Professor Snape is head of Slytherin House."

Harry rolled his eyes. "I already knew that," he said.

"Yeah, well, I've heard he favors them…I guess we'll find out later if it's true."

Harry sighed, to be honest he didn't care if the teachers showed favoritism, it wasn't like the points system mattered to him anyway. Just then, the mail arrived. Harry had been a little startled when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall his first morning during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners and dropping letters into their laps. Louve had been startled as well, and Harry had to stop her from trying to catch a bird or two with her mouth. Hedwig hadn't brought him anything yet, but sometimes she flew in to say hello to him or snag a bit of toast before flying off again to the owlery with the school owls (where Harry was told she had to stay now, as she was leaving a mess in his room).

This morning when she fluttered down to the table, he looked up, expecting to just exchange a few words before class. He was surprised when the Snowy Owl dropped a letter onto his plate. Curiously, he ripped it open to read it.

**Dear Harry,**

**I know you get Friday afternoon off, so would you like to come and have a cup of tea with me around three? I want to hear all about your first week. Send us an answer back with Hedwig.**

** Hagrid**

Harry borrowed a quill from David and scribbled an affirmative on the back of the note and sent Hedwig off again. He wasn't sure he would actually have any tea during his visit, but some time outside with a familiar face would be nice.

Now Harry had had classes with Snape before, the man had taught him etiquette and how to act amongst other people; Potions should be a breeze. But from the way David was complaining on the way down to the dungeons, it wasn't a popular class. They reached the room to find the door open and the other members of the class already inside. The room was small, dark, and cold with low tables and shelves around the room that held jars of pickled animals. Both Harry and Louve wrinkled their noses at the array of smells that clung to different parts of the room.

When class began, Professor Snape started off by taking the roll call just like Professor Flitwick, and like the Charms Professor, he paused when he came to Harry's name.

"Ah, yes," he said, his expression strange, "Harry Potter. Our new – _celebrity_."

Harry ignored the sniggering of Malfoy and his friends to blink in confusion. The way Snape had said that made it sound like this was the first time they were meeting, but Harry had had classes with the man for two weeks before term started. He didn't get it.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Snape began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses…I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech and Harry and David exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. _"Somebody's grumpy,"_ Louve commented and Harry discreetly kicked her. He glanced around the room and saw that Hannah Abbott looked eager to prove she knew what she was doing. The Slytherins simply looked smug.

"Potter!" Snape said suddenly, "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry thought for a moment. "A sleeping potion so powerful that it goes by the name the Drought of Living Death," he said.

Snape frowned slightly and continued. "Where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

"A goat's stomach, sir," Harry said, "It'll save you from most poisons," he added. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Hannah had raised her hand both times, and that Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle were sending glares in his direction.

It seemed Snape wasn't done with his questions yet. "What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"They're the same plant, sir," Harry said, "also called aconite."

Snape paused for a moment, his expression making Harry think he had a sour taste in his mouth. "At least _someone_ had decided to come prepared," he said finally, giving the rest of the class a dark look. The he turned to continue the class.

Things went downhill from that as the lesson continued. Snape put them into pairs and had them mix up a simple potion to cure boils, sweeping around the class in his black cloak and breathing down their necks and criticizing almost everyone except for Malfoy, who he seemed to like. It didn't take long for Harry to see that the Professor really did favor his own house. Snape was telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when Louve, who had been breathing in the potion fumes too long, sneezed loudly, causing David to spill some porcupine quills into his potion.

Harry smelled the danger almost immediately and grabbed David by the scruff of his neck, pulling sharply.

"Hey!" David yelled, getting the attention of the rest of the class. He shot Harry a glare, who just returned the look and pointed towards their ruined cauldron, which had melted into a twisted blob, spilling its contents all over the floor. The hissing potion burned holes in people's shoes and gave Louve a nasty welt on one paw, causing her to yelp loudly and jump onto a desk. The rest of the class clambered onto their stools to get away and Harry perched on his chair, eyeing the floor suspiciously.

"Idiot boy!" Snape snarled, clearing the spilled potion with one wave of his wand. He gave Louve a dark look and she cringed, jumping back to the floor with her ears and tail lowered. He then glared at David. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

David whimpered under Snape's furious gaze, which turned to Harry next.

"Get off of your chair, Mr. Potter," he snapped. Harry realized the class was looking at him oddly and figured the way he was perched on his chair looked rather strange, so he hopped off. "Why didn't you tell him not to add the quills?" Snape continued, "Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's a point you've lost for Hufflepuff."

This treatment was so unfair that Harry opened his mouth to protest, but David discreetly kicked him. "Don't," he muttered, "I've heard Snape can turn very nasty."

When Harry left the dungeon an hour later, his spirits were rather low and he was feeling very confused. Snape had acted so differently during the summer, and while he hadn't acted exactly friendly, he'd at least been civil. But _today_, today had been horrible; it was as though the man hated him…but Harry couldn't imagine why. Had Harry said or done something that had angered the Potions Master? As he followed David silently up a flight of stairs it suddenly occurred to him. Was it because of his second wand? Perhaps there was something concerning his wand that he didn't know…that made the man hate him?

David seemed to sense Harry's mood. "Cheer up, Harry," he said, "Snape takes points away from everybody. Anyway, you've got tea with Hagrid later right? Hey, can I come?"

Harry nodded; his attention far from the conversation.

"_Something's on your mind, Harry,"_ Louve said, looking up at him curiously, _"What's wrong?"_

"_I'll tell you later,"_ he said, waving it off.

Shortly after lunch, Harry, David, and Louve made their way outside and across the grounds towards Hagrid's hut on the edge of the Forest. Harry forced his eager eyes away from the shadowy trees and looked to the hut, which had a crossbow and pair of huge galoshes sitting outside the front door.

When Harry knocked they heard a frantic scrabbling from inside and several booming barks. Harry rolled his eyes; he was used to Fang's enthusiasm by now. David, on the other hand, hadn't met the boarhound yet and was eyeing the door nervously. Hagrid's voice rang out, saying "Back, Fang – back!"

Hagrid pulled the door open a crack and his big, hairy face appeared. "Hang on," he said, "_Back_, Fang." He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on Fang's collar, who was barking madly.

Harry cast his eyes around the familiar, one-room hut. Hams and pheasants hung from the ceiling, a copper pot was boiling in the fire place, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yerselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight over to Louve and started sniffing at her tail, completely forgetting her past warnings.

"This is David," Harry told Hagrid, seating himself at the vast, round table that took up most of the space in the hut.

"Nice ter meet yeh," Hagrid said, pouring boiling water into a large teapot and placing a plate of rock cakes on the table. He smiled at Harry. "I told yeh you'd make friends," he added.

Harry chose not to respond and instead came to Louve's rescue and convinced Fang to come over to him. The dog accepted the pats on his head, and rested it on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes. David came over and joined Harry and Hagrid at the table, and Louve made herself comfortable in front of the fire.

"So," Hagrid said, "how was yer first week o' school?"

Harry filled Hagrid in on his first lessons, and after a moment, found himself ranting about all the staring and whispers that were really getting on his nerves. He told Hagrid how he heard some students said he belonged in Slytherin because he seemed so Dark, whatever that meant, and he complained about the rivalries between the Houses, which were really bugging him. He mentioned that similar fighting occurred in wolf packs but that didn't stop it from irritating him. He just wanted to be left along. Meanwhile David quickly found out why Harry wasn't touching the rock cakes (Harry had told Hagrid it was because he didn't like sweet things, and the half-giant didn't seem offended). To cover up his discomfort, David took up the tale and ended up doing most of the talking. When he heard about their meeting with Filch, Hagrid frowned, calling the caretaker "that old git," much to Harry and David's amusement.

"An' fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it…and he knows cats make me sneeze."

Harry rubbed Fang's head and sent Hagrid a sardonic smile. "I don't think that'd work, Hagrid," he said, "She's met Louve and didn't seem fazed at all." He smirked and glanced at the she-wolf. "But then again, this is _Louve_ we're talking about…"

Louve opened one eye and gave a half-hearted growl, clearly drowsy from the heat of the fire.

Harry told Hagrid about his Potions lesson and how Snape had treated him so differently from before. Like David, Hagrid told him not to worry about it and that Snape didn't really like any of the students. But Harry still didn't feel convinced, he was so sure his second wand had something to do with it, but with David around, he wasn't going to ask Hagrid about it.

"I don't know, Hagrid, it was like he _hated_ me," he said.

"Rubbish!" Hagrid said, "Why should he?"

Harry frowned, Hagrid hadn't quite met his eyes when he said that, and he felt that the giant really knew what was going on but wouldn't tell him.

"So, David," Hagrid said, "yer a muggleborn right? What do yeh think of our world so far?"

Harry realized he'd changed the subject on purpose and he looked away, lost in thought. Something under the teapot caught his attention and he reached over, pulling out a piece of paper. It was a cutting from the _Daily Prophet_, the Wizarding newspaper that Hagrid frequently read.

**Gringotts Break-in Latest**

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on August 24th, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown._

_Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied the same day._

_"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokes-goblin this afternoon._

It took a moment for Harry to read the entire thing, but when it sank in he realized something.

"Hagrid!" he said, "That break-in happened the same day we where there!"

Hagrid definitely didn't meet his eyes this time and just grunted and offered Harry a rock cake. He gave him a weird look and looked at the article again, noting David's interest. _The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied that same day_. Hagrid had emptied vault seven hundred and thirteen, if you could call it emptying, and took out that grubby little package. Could that have been what the thieves were looking for? And speaking of which, how would the goblins had known if someone had tried to get in? Griphook had said they only check it once every ten years. He wondered how the goblin was doing in all this mess.

Later, as Harry, David, and Louve walked back to the castle for dinner, Harry ignored David's complaining about the rock cakes (he was poking at his teeth and to his dismay had found one that the cakes had loosened) and thought about everything he'd learned this week. Part of him hated being here, and realized Asena's fears had been right; humans really did hate everything different from them. But then again, there were some humans who didn't, David was proof of that, though Harry had noticed that other students didn't talk to the blonde very much and figured that had made him lonely. Still, that could be due to the boy's insistence on following Harry around.

Harry was learning interesting forms of magic, but considering what they were covering, he realized he may have to stay at the castle longer than he'd planned. Finding a way back home was going to be harder than he'd thought. As they climbed the stairs to the front door, his mind turned to the newspaper article. Had Hagrid collected that package just in time? Where was it now…and what had been inside that was so important? And did Hagrid know something about Snape that he didn't want to tell Harry?


	10. Chapter 9

**Author's note: *sigh*…this announcement is gonna really bum a lot of people out, and I just want to apologize in advance. As of right now, I'm putting Feral Child on a TEMPORARY HIATUS. This is because I have a ton of things going on…**

**If anyone has read the other notes, I've mentioned moving to an apartment, and about a month ago I finally did. So now I've got to work a lot to pay rent, and in just about 2 months I'll be going back to college (finally!!).**

**Also, I've finally made a lot of progress on my comic series I've been working on for the past… almost 5 years I think. This story is my baby, and I want to spend all of my time working on it, as it's my top priority. I know everyone likes this story, and that makes me very happy, but I never really had this as a priority…all the fanfics I wrote were more like writing practice for my original fiction, and if you look back at my older stuff…I think it helped a lot ^_^**

**Hopefully this will cheer you up though – I have up to Chapter 13 **_**completed**_** already, and I will be posting those. (10 is my favorite so far, you'll find out why soon ^_^)** **I hope everyone enjoys them, and reviews, and remember – I have completed outlines for the remaining chapters, so if I feel like writing them, I can do so very quickly. Hopefully, I'll get the motivation to at least finish this story….as for writing through all seven years at Hogwarts…I'm not so sure.**

**This note is getting quite lengthy, so I'm going to end with an apology again, and say that I hope everyone likes this chapter, and to please tell me what you think.**

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**Chapter 9**

The next two weeks passed pretty much in the same fashion as the first. Harry endured lessons with his classmates and suffered through two more Potions lessons with Snape. Within his first fortnight at Hogwarts, Harry realized what he was going to complain about the most when he finally got home to his Mother. Second to Dumbledore on his 'annoying' list was two of his fellow first years: Draco Malfoy and Ron Weasley.

Malfoy, it seemed, had taken personal offense when Harry refused to shake his hand the night of the Welcoming Feast and made it his goal to harass him. Even though Harry had learned how to _appear_ a little more normal in his lessons with Snape and wore the 'proper' apparel at all times and even kept his hair in a less messy fashion, it seemed his manners weren't good enough for the snobby blonde. Whenever he could, Malfoy would start talking loudly during meals about Harry's lack of table manners (which in Harry's mind were improving) and when they passed in hallways or had classes together, Malfoy would pretend to sneeze and whine about how all the wolf hairs on Harry's clothes were irritating his sinuses. Harry ignored him for the most part, despite the fact he hadn't actually _told_ anyone about his childhood in the wild, most of the student population seemed to have figured at least some of it out; he did have an air of wildness about him that most seemed to notice.

Ron Weasley irritated him for another reason. While Malfoy was going on about how purebloods should act and such, Weasley seemed to think Harry was too dangerous to be there. He kept going on about how Harry was too _dark_ and should have been placed in the Snake's nest (Slytherin House), or that Harry was placed in a separate room for the other students' safety (rumors from his own house had spread that little bit of information a long time ago). Malfoy saw the separate room as favoritism, but Harry liked Weasley's idea better. He preferred the fear the redhead had when he looked at him to Malfoy's disgust. But then again, he knew those two reactions were related and remembered what Asena had taught him. They feared him because he was Wild, couldn't be tamed or controlled, and therefore was something to be afraid of.

Neither boy had actually tried to say anything to Harry's face, each time someone other than David approached him, Harry and Louve would growl or snarl and in time others learned to leave him alone. On the down side, because of all this, it would be impossible for David to befriend others of his kind since he was always seen with Harry. For some reason, it made Harry feel a little guilty, but he forced himself to ignore it.

To his relief, Harry didn't have to endure either boy very often save for the occasional double class. Or at least, that's what he thought until he spotted a notice pinned up in the Hufflepuff common room that made him frown. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday – and Hufflepuff and Slytherin would be learning together.

"Figures," said Harry darkly to David when they saw it, "just another chance for Malfoy to brag." He'd been kind of looking forward to learning to fly too – it looked to be the highest chance for him to get away. But David misinterpreted his reluctance.

"I'm sure you won't be that bad," he said reasonably, "Anyway, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only though; Ernie Macmillan went on about all the flying he'd done as a child, and Ron Weasley told anyone who would listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider with his brother's old broom. Everyone from Wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly, and to be honest, Harry wasn't sure why. He knew a little bit about the game, but the idea of it never seemed as exciting as everyone made it out to be. David, on the other hand, seemed eager to learn. Coming from a muggle family, he'd never played the game before or even flown on a broomstick, but he'd gotten a Quidditch book from the library and spent most of that week trying to memorize odd flying tips. He spent Thursday morning lecturing Harry and everyone else around them and was thankfully interrupted when the mail arrived.

Hedwig flew down, though she didn't have any mail, and Harry greeted her and gave her some toast. She seemed to notice his less than happy mood.

"_What's up with you?"_ she asked, picking at something in her claws with her beak.

"_I've got flying lessons today with some less than pleasant classmates_," he said.

Hedwig cocked her head. _"You've got flying lessons and you're not happy?"_ she asked, _"Why ever not? Flying is one of the best things in the world."_

Harry let out a little laugh. _"Well of course it would seem so to a bird,"_ he said, petting her feathers, _"In all honesty, it doesn't seem so bad, I just don't want to be around that Malfoy kid any more than necessary."_

The owl seemed to except that answer and ruffled her feathers. _"I don't blame you. His eagle owl is always complaining about all the flying he has to do; you're not the only one who can't stand him."_

That really made Harry laugh, it amused him that the owl Malfoy really seemed proud of couldn't stand its owner. Hedwig puffed up proudly, glad that she'd cheered Harry up, then grabbed another piece of toast and fly off back to the owlery.

A moment later a small, brown owl dropped something off in front of Ernie Macmillan, who opened it eagerly and held up a strange-looking, rounded top.

"It's my dad's Sneakoscope," he said, "It lights up and spins and makes noise if there's anyone or anything untrustworthy around." He shot Harry a suspicious look, but Harry just smirked at him when it clearly did not react to his presence.

Draco Malfoy, who was passing by their table at this moment, snatched it up from him and looked at it. At once it started lighting up and whirring and Harry couldn't help but snort at his annoyed expression. Ernie and Justin Finch-Fletchley both jumped to their feet, clearly looking for a fight. Harry watched with a bored expression as Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble faster than any other teacher in the school, appeared suddenly at their table.

"What's going on?" she asked sternly.

"Malfoy's got my Sneakoscope, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped it back onto the table. "Just looking," he said and he sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle following behind him. Something about the blonde boy's expression made Harry believe that the matter was not over.

Later that afternoon, Harry followed the other Hufflepuff first years down the front steps and across the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns towards a smooth, flat area that was on the opposite side of the grounds from the Forest. Harry tore his eyes away from the darkly swaying trees and glanced around.

The Slytherins were already there and were standing in a group next to about twenty broomsticks that were lying in neat lines on the ground. He looked down at the old, ratty looking brooms, feeling apprehensive. He'd heard some of the older students complaining about the school brooms; supposedly they vibrated if you flew too high or had a tendency to veer to the left. He wasn't sure if he'd feel safe on those things…they looked like any amount of weight would snap them in two.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch arrived at that moment. She had short, grey hair and yellow eyes like a hawk that Harry liked instantly.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

They all scrambled to stand next to a broom. Harry found himself between David and Ernie; who was standing across from a smug looking Malfoy. He glanced down at his broom, frowning at the way the twigs stung out at odd angles in the tail. He was aware of Louve's barely suppressed laughter behind him; clearly she was amused by all of this.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," Madam Hooch called from the front, "and say 'Up!'"

Harry raised his eyebrows, hesitating. Then he shrugged and did as she said. His broom jumped into his hand at once, but it was one of the few that did. Hannah Abbot's just rolled over, and Harry snorted when Malfoy's leapt up too high and smacked him in the face. Ernie's didn't move at all, and Harry detected a slight quaver in his voice that said too clearly he wanted to keep his feet on the ground. Funny, since he'd been bragging about his talent only that morning.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and David grinned when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"_That makes a lovely image,"_ Louve commented from behind him. Harry sent her a look over his shoulder and she gave a snort.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch, "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two –"

But Ernie, nervous, jumpy, and a little too eager at the same time, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but he was rising up and up – twelve feet – twenty feet. Harry saw his scared white face look down at the ground beneath him, saw his eyes roll back as he slid sideways off the broom and - WHAM – a thud and a crack later the boy was lying on the ground in a heap. His broomstick kept going and started to drift off towards the Forest.

Madam Hooch ran over and bent over Ernie, her face as pale as his. The boy was woken up and Harry saw that he was cradling his arm to his chest.

"Broken wrist," Hooch muttered, "Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get." She turned to face the rest of the class. "None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch'. Come on, dear."

She led the whimpering boy away towards the castle. No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face?" The other Slytherins joined in. Harry paid him no attention and instead glanced over at Louve, silently wondering if Madam Hooch's threat of expulsion had been real.

"Shut up Malfoy," a Hufflepuff girl snapped.

"Ooh, sticking up for Macmillan," said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Is he your boyfriend?" There was more laughter after this. It was getting on Harry's nerves.

"Look!" Malfoy said, darting over and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Macmillan's dad sent him." He held up the small Sneakoscope for them too see. "Maybe I should leave it somewhere for him to find…like a tree!"

The other Slytherins cheered and encouraged him to do it. The noise got to be too much for Harry's patience.

"Drop it, Malfoy," he said quietly. Everyone stopped talking to watch. He noticed Louve and David looking at him in surprise.

"Why don't you make me, Potter?" Malfoy said nastily, mounting his broom and taking off. He hadn't been lying earlier, he _could_ fly well. He stopped to hover near the topmost branches of an oak. "Come on and get it!"

Harry growled quietly and grabbed his broom.

"_No!_" shouted Justin, "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble."

Harry ignored him. He'd been waiting for a chance to exert his dominance over Malfoy, and wolf-like, he never backed down from a challenge. The blood pounded in his ears and he clambered onto his broom and kicked hard against the ground. He soared up; his hair and robes whipped out around him and suddenly he was filled with a fierce joy. This was easy; this was _wonderful_. He'd never felt freedom like this before. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher and heard screams and gasps of girls on the ground and an admiring yip from Louve.

He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy in midair; who looked stunned.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" Malfoy sneered, but Harry could smell the faint scent of fear on the other boy and he grinned evilly.

Somehow, Harry knew what to do. He leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands and it shot forward. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time, though Harry was able to swipe at him as he passed; his hands just barely grazing Malfoy's side. He turned around sharply and held the broom steady, aware of some claps and cheers from down below. But he was focused on Malfoy, whose fear-scent had grown and was looking less confident.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry taunted.

The same thought seemed to strike Malfoy, and he frowned briefly. "Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass object high into the air before flying back towards the ground.

While he didn't care if the thing broke, Harry found himself reacting instinctively. He saw the Sneakoscope rise up in the air and then start to fall and he leaned forward, pointing his broom handle down. The next second he was gathering speed in a steep dive, racing the ball – the wind was whistling in his ears, mingled with the screams of people watching and Louve's howl of alarm. He stretched out his hand and a foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom up and he landed gracefully onto the grass with the Sneakoscope clutched in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER!"

He jumped slightly as Professor Sprout came running towards him, her dirty hair flying around her.

"_Never_ – in all my time at Hogwarts…" She was almost speechless with shock; her hands waving furiously. "How _dare_ you – might have broken your neck –"

"It wasn't his fault Professor," David began.

"Be quiet, Mr. Winters."

"But Malfoy –"

"That's _enough_. Mr. Potter, follow me. Now."

Harry had never seen the normally cheerful witch so angry before, but he quickly deposited the Sneakoscope and broom on the grass and followed her. Louve stood to catch up.

"_What was that all about?"_ she asked quietly.

Harry smirked. _"We may be going home."_

"_What?! How can you be so sure?"_

He chose not to reply and instead worked out the scenario in his head. In the space of two minutes, he'd accepted Malfoy's challenge in the hopes of shutting up the arrogant boy and showing his dominance, but he possibly just got them out of this place. Madam Hooch had said they'd be kicked out of Hogwarts if they even so much as _touched_ their brooms and Harry had done a lot more than that. A month in this hell and soon he and Louve would be back in their home Forest with his mother.

They went up the front steps, up the marble staircase and through several corridors. Professor Sprout hadn't spoken a word to him this whole time and he wondered what she was thinking. He wondered if she was taking him to Dumbledore, but after glancing around he realized they were nowhere near the Headmaster's office. As a matter of fact, they were near the Charms Classroom.

Professor Sprout opened the Charms Classroom door and poked her head inside. "Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Diggory for a moment?"

Harry looked up, confused. Wasn't he going to be expelled?

A fourth year boy, with darkish hair and handsome features came out of Flitwick's class looking just as confused as Harry felt.

"Follow me, you two," Professor Sprout said, and led them down the corridor. Diggory looked at Harry curiously and he sent the boy a glare, smirking when he looked away again nervously.

"In here."

Professor Sprout pointed them into a classroom that was empty save for Peeves, who was busy writing nasty words on the blackboard. Harry suppressed a snort of laughter as the Herbology teacher ordered the poltergeist to leave. He threw the chalk into the trash bin and swooped out, cursing. Sprout slammed the door after him and turned to face the two boys.

"Potter, this is Cedric Diggory. Diggory – I've found you a seeker."

Diggory's expression changed from confusion to excitement. "Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely. The boy's a natural; I've never seen anything like it. Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter."

Harry nodded silently, feeling his insides plummet. He had no idea what was going on, but it seemed his dreams of going home were crashing down around him. Just what was going on?

"He caught that thing after a fifty-foot dive," Professor Sprout told Diggory. "Charlie Weasley couldn't have done it."

Diggory was not looking like all his dreams had come true and he looked at Harry excitedly. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?"

"Diggory's the captain of the Hufflepuff team," Professor Sprout said, "Now don't let his age fool you, he was the best player our House has seen in decades when he joined two years ago, and the previous captain graduated last year. The votes were unanimous; everyone wanted him to lead."

Diggory was walking around Harry now, sizing him up. Harry kept the growl in his throat but frowned. "He's just the build for a Seeker too. Light and speedy. He'd have to get a decent broom though Professor; a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule. Heaven knows, we need a good seeker after Johnson left last year. Slytherin's been tough to face these past few years; I haven't been able to look Severus Snape in the face for ages."

Professor Sprout peered over at Harry. "I want to hear you training hard, Potter, or I may have to change my mind about punishing you." Suddenly she smiled. "Your father would have been proud; he was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

Harry blinked for a moment. "So…" he asked nervously, "I'm _not_ being expelled?"

"Well no, of course not!"

Louve whimpered quietly and thumped her tail on the ground in defeat.

* * *

**Remember, I have 4 more chapters written, so they will be up eventually. Also, if anyone is interested in my original comic story, check out my profile page for a link to my art site (and a link to my comic site once it's up and running)**


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